Without Honor, There is Nothing
by booster-t
Summary: As the New Republic battles the Vong for survival, Talon Karrde reflects on the circumstances that brought Shada D'ukal into his life. I'm back ... sorry for the lag ... updated May 18, 2007 ... Chapter 27 posted.
1. Author

**UPDATED APRIL 3, 2007:**

Updates might slow down even more than usual for the next two weeks as this is the last week of class, and final exams are next week … along with my favorite part of teaching — marking

* * *

This story was started 4 years ago as a reaction to the destruction of the Star Wars mystique that had been a part of my life for 25 years. I saw the original "Star Wars" movie in August 1977 when it first came out … and it was the harbinger of a dramatic change in the way such movies would be made.

When Timothy Zahn published the Thrawn Trilogy, I was hooked again. And he added the icing to the cake with the Spectre of the Past/Vision of the Future … setting the stage for a new generation of stories. Unfortunately, IMHO, the next generation of stories was everything Star Wars was not — and that opinion continues with the latest series of books … we have Jacen as the new Anakin while the adults are portrayed as something along the lines of morons.

This story is a mixture of canon and my own creation … it tries to provide the backstory for the events that led to Shada becoming an integral part of Kardde's crew — and his life. To fully appreciate the story, you have to know who the characters are … but even without that knowledge, the story stands on its own.

And in case anyone wonders, the style I have adopted is based on Zahn's approach to the characters. I have tried to be faithful.

Any comments gratefully accepted.

PS: The story has never been finished … it stands at around 125,000 words … but my life changed when I changed employers a few years ago, and I am only now getting around to dealing with the story again.


	2. Prologue

"Direct hit on the _Idiot's Array_, sir," H'sishi reported.

"Shada, are you there?" Kardde asked, over the comm.

"Still here, boss. They tickled us, but we can still keep up."

"One more hit like that and you're ions," Kardde disagreed. "Peel off. You've done enough."

"Sorry boss. Can't hear you. Something wrong with my comm unit. Hang tight, we'll get you there."

The power on the _Wilde Kardde_ suddenly dimmed and reasserted itself, and a distant vibration shivered the hull. … He saw the _Idiot's Array_ take her final hit, right through the engines. Plumes of plasma streamed from her, and atomic devils danced in the ruined aft section.

"Get out of there, Shada!" he shouted into the comm.

No answer came.

"What's she doing, sir?"

"She's got a tractor lock on them. She must have diverted all her power to that. Everything."

An instant later the _Idiot's Array_ vanished in a sphere of pure white light, taking most of the Yuuzhan Vong destroyer with it.

"Shada," Kardde murmured again, feeling very tired.

The next day

"Captain. Message for you, sir" H'sishi said. …

"Put it on, H'sishi," he said. …

"Corran Horn," Kardde said. "It's good to see you. I assume you were on your father-in-law's Star Destroyer?"

"When Jacen and Jaina found us, yes" … Kardde, I want to thank you for saving my son and the other children. I know what it cost you."

_No, you don't,_ Kardde thought. "You're welcome," he told Horn. "When I make promises, I do my best to keep them."

"We're alike in that," Horn replied. "And I also pay my debts. I owe you a big one."

Kardde received the sentiment with a nod of his head … "I'm sorry to be so short, but I'm not much in the mood for conversation right now."

"I'll let you go in a second. This doesn't even come close to squaring us up, but I do have something for you."

"What's that?"

"Someone, I should say." Horn moved aside and was replaced by Shada D'ukal's wry features.

"Shada!"

"Come on, Kardde," Shada said. "You didn't think I was stupid enough to _stay_ on a flaming ship, did you?" … She squinted at the screen. "Hey boss, what's wrong with your eye?"

Talon Kardde relaxed for the first time in what seemed like weeks. _Shada is safe_ he wanted to scream at he top of his lungs. Instead, he faced Corran again, with no hint of what he was feeling showing on his face. "Please convey my regards to Booster. Perhaps when things settle down, I'll come over and personally extend my appreciation for his help in driving the Vong away from the Yavin IV. Say hello to Mirax for me also. And if it's not too much trouble, perhaps one of your crew could arrange to ferry Shada over to my shipKardde out."

Kardde turned to the Togorian, silently sitting by the comm board.

"Well, H'sishi, we seem to have annoyed just about everyone in this sector. The Peace Brigade will be after my hide, and you can bet the Yuuzhan Vong will add me to their list of _Jeedai_ supporters. As soon as Shada is back aboard, I want a complete inspection of the _Wilde Kardde._ Inform the other captains that they are to do the same with their vessels. I haven't forgotten what Thrawn did to me sixteen years ago. There's an old adage that goes _fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._ I do not intend to get caught again."

"Yes, Captain," H'sishi replied, as she turned to execute her orders.

Kardde smiled, but it was a sad smile, and only to himself. _The victory against the Vong had been bought dearly. Too many friends gone_ today, sacrificed to who knows what or why. Kardde shook himself out of his reverie. But Shada was alive and that was cause for quiet, personal celebration. The Vong would be back. Yavin IV was too tempting a target for them, and the fact that the hated Jedi Academy had been located on Yavin IV's moon would only serve to ensure that the Vong or their sympathizers in the New Republic would make staying here a decidedly risky action. _I don't think I could face losing you, Shada. Not after all we've been through. It took the Vong to make me realize how much you mean to me._

Shada D'ukal stood just out of range of the comm unit as Talon Kardde accepted the signal from H'sishi. She wondered what Corran Horn was up to, although she had a pretty good idea. She let her mind wander as she reflected on the past few days. _Kardde hates surprises_ she smiled to herself, _unless he's the one springing them._

"I'll let you go in a second" she heard Horn say. "This doesn't even come close to squaring us up, but I do have something for you."

"What's that?" Kardde replied.

"Someone, I should say." Horn moved aside and Shada moved into range.

"Shada!"

"Come on, Kardde," Shada said. "You didn't think I was stupid enough to stay on a flaming ship, did you?" … She squinted at the screen. "Hey boss, what's wrong with your eye?"

"The air unit has been blowing dust in from somewhere … get your tail back over here, so we can discuss how long it will take you to pay me back for the Idiot's Array."

Shada rolled her eyes. "See you soon, boss".

She then stepped back and out of range as Horn faced Kardde again. That was too close, Kardde. Stars, but I'd miss you, Shada thought to herself as a shiver ran down her spine. Shada D'ukal — what are you thinking? You promised you would never get involved with anyone! Even Kardde! He's your employer, your boss — nothing more! Your honor has always meant more to you than personal relationships. Do you want to go through again what you did when you were forced away from Mazzic? Without realizing it, Shada found herself drifting back to events from more than six years before. Those twelve years with Mazzic … gone in the snap of a finger … and for what? Shada surpressed another shiver.For what? I'll tell you for what, she shouted to herself. For honor!

Six year earlier …

… Kardde crossed to where Shada and the other young Mistryl were helping the older woman to a sitting position. "How is she?" he asked.

"Not as bad as we thought," Shada said … "She was able to twist almost out of the way of the shot." …

Kardde crossed his arms and waited … and after a few seconds the older woman grimaced. "What is it you want?"

"I want the Mistryl hunter teams called off Shada," he said. "Whatever her alleged crime against you, it's to be forgiven and the death mark lifted."

The woman's mouth twisted. "You ask much."

"We've given much," Kardde reminded her. "Is it a deal?"

She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. But she will not be reinstated into the Mistryl; not now, not ever. And Emberlene will forever be closed to her."

She turned burning eyes up at Shada. "From now on she is a woman without a home."

Kardde looked at Shada. Her face was tight, her lips pressed tightly together. But she returned his look steadily and nodded. "Fine," he said. "We'll just have to see about finding her a new home."

"With you?" The woman snorted. "With a smuggler and a seller of information? Tell me again how low a Mistryl can sink."

Not as low as you did when you ordered Karoly to murder Mazzic; when you expected me to throw away twelve years of my life and just walk away without a backward glance. Like a player in a holovid, discarded when its usefulness is no longer obvious. Why did I care? It was for honor, and for an Emberlene that no longer exists. Even now, Shada found herself wondering at the change in her life. It was just like when Jorj Car'das offered her the choice of datacards. As it was then, she found to her surprise that the choice was surprisingly easy. Kardde may not be Mazzic, and he may be nothing more than a smuggler and a "seller of information" although Shada was certain such was not the case. But he is honorable, Shada concluded, and if my life is to mean anything at all, even in exile, honor must guide me.

Kardde watched the emotions play across the Shada's face. He was saddened at the intransigence of Karoly's superior. Foolish, he thought. And yet, he mused, if all of The Eleven were so blinded by their desire for vengeance, then Shada has made the right decision.

Again he glanced at Shada. She was watching the medics help the older woman onto a stretcher. Drawing her exile around her like a cloak, an expression of pain filled her face. _Like someone who has lost her best friend in the universe,_ Kardde thoughtAnd then it came to him._ What was it she had said to Car'das? _The words came back to him in a flash:_ I need something larger than myself to hold onto and believe in. Something that could make a difference._

_Well Shada,_ he promised. _I'll find you that something. You _will_ make a difference. _


	3. Kardde's idea

Talon Kardde slowly surveyed the Chimaera's wardroom. The medics had taken the Mistryl leader to sickbay and Karoly had gone with her. Tierce's body had also disappeared. Kardde wondered what the Empire would do with the clone's body. Thoughts of dissection ran through his mind, but he dismissed those immediately. Admiral Pellaeon is too cultured and honorable to stoop to that level, Kardde murmured to himself. Pellaeon! That was it. Kardde quickly roused himself and approach the Grand Admiral.

"Admiral Pellaeon," Kardde said. "May I have a word with you?"

"You'll have to be quick," Pellaeon replied. "I'm on my way to meet with General Bel Iblis. And I do not intend to be late for this meeting".

"I have an idea I'd like to bounce off of you, if I may. Depending on your response, I will, well, ahh, maybe I should wait till you and I have had a chance to discuss this notion of mine."

Pellaeon regarded Kardde thoughtfully. What was it that Grand Admiral Thrawn had said about Kardde? It came to him at once. Our need for such vermin has certainly been reduced … Karrde has already proven he can be a great deal of trouble. Yet, Thrawn had clearly underestimated the smuggler — Thrawn was dead, Disra and Flim notwithstanding, and Kardde was still here. Pellaeon grimaced, then chided himself for such thoughts. It was a war back then, and in war, one did what one needed to do to win. Pellaeon sighed. And the war is now over, once and for all. Or was it? Pellaeon could not help but wonder if there were any more surprises waiting for him. Are there any more Disras or Flims? Or even Tierces, he wondered. The Moffs will not be happy about this, no matter what they agreed to three months ago. It would be nice to know what was going on without making it obvious.

"Certainly", Pellaeon replied, "but I wonder if your, ah, notion … will it get you into trouble with the New Republic?"

"Admiral," Kardde responded, "I have been in and out of trouble with the New Republic for more years than I care to remember. Recent events will undoubtedly gain me some credits on the positive side of the ledger, but as with all things, it will be forgotten when it is politically expedient to do so". Kardde looked like he had tasted something sour.

Pellaeon smiled. "Well, perhaps I can help you add to those credits. What do I owe you for that data card you brought me?"

"Nothing Admiral, since the data was given to me in circumstances that did not require payment, and it would be unethical to seek payment from you for something that was given to me in good faith."

Again Pellaeon smiled, but this time to himself. I was right. There's far more to Kardde than meets the eye. Smuggler, indeed. "I notice that you have not asked what the meeting is about. Perhaps I should hold off our discussions until I have a better idea about the outcome."

"As you wish, Admiral, although perhaps I can be of assistance. May I ask what the meeting is about?"

Unbidden, more of Thrawn's words came back to him. Talon Karrde is not merely a smuggler, you see. Perhaps not even primarily a smuggler. His real love is not goods or money but information. More than anything else in the galaxy, he craves knowledge. Pellaeon considered for a moment and replied. "I suppose it will not be a secret for much longer. I have persuaded the remaining Moffs that the time has come to begin negotiations with the New Republic for a peace treaty. The war begun when Senator Palpatine declared himself Emperor is, for all intents and purposes, over."

Kardde's expression did not change, but his voice said it all. "Congratulations, Admiral." Kardde extended his hand. "I must say that I applaud your courage and foresight, and I truly believe that your sense of honor will enable you to conclude a treaty that all can live with. You may not believe this, but my, ah notion, as you referred to it, may be of some help after all. May I offer you a ride to your meeting?

Pellaeon nodded. "Are you certain you wish to pursue this, ah, notion." Try as he might, Pellaeon could not entirely keep the smile out of his voice. "After all, dealing with the remnants of the Empire is not one of those things that Coruscant will willingly endorse, in spite of the treaty"

Kardde shook his head. "You leave that to me, Admiral. By the time I have this, ah, notion, finalized, the New Republic leadership will wonder how they ever got along without it."

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Kardde stifled a groan, fighting to keep his thoughts to himself. He glanced at Luke, sitting to his right; the Jedi Master was struggling to keep the amusement off his face. "Am I that transparent, Skywalker?" he quietly growled.

"No" was the reply. "It's just that when someone is mentally shouting as loud as you were, it's hard to keep from listening in."

Kardde sighed to himself. It seemed that his boast to Admiral Pellaeon that "the New Republic leadership will wonder how they ever got along without it" was going to come back to haunt him. It wasn't that they were opposed to the notion; far from it. But like all bureaucracies, the need for speed, initiative and the ability to grasp ideas that were "outside the box" was something that eluded their collective consciousness. Master Skywalker had understood the significance of his plan immediately. Kardde wondered how much of a role Mara had played in that decision. He suspected very little. Kardde was beginning to realize that Skywalker was far more perceptive than he had been prepared to give him credit for. That's what comes of relying on stereotypes and Mara's view of the universe. Again, he noticed a smile playing across Luke's face.

"Still shouting"?

"Yup," Luke answered quietly, "although I must admit that I share your frustration".

Kardde reflected on the past two days' discussions. In particular, he considered Skywalker's role. Kardde was certain that Luke had not influenced the proceedings in any way, except with his words. He wondered where the Jedi had learned to be so successful as a diplomat. The answer came to him immediately. Having Leia for a sister didn't hurt. Having to run the Jedi Academy and satisfy the "powers that be" on Coruscant didn't hurt, either. And learning from Mara was the best lesson of all.

Kardde looked around to see if anyone else had heard Luke's admission. The rest of the participants continued their conversations as if nothing had been said. Once again, Luke smiled. I guess if I'm learning from him, he is also learning from me. Kardde was certain that in that regard, Mara had played, and would continue to play, a major role. There seemed to be a grudging acknowledgement that Luke's pre-conceived views of him and his "associates" was also undergoing change.

Kardde turned his attention back to the discussions. If his confrontations with the authorities in both the New Republic and the Empire had taught him anything, it was to pay attention to detail. But his run-ins with Thrawn had also taught him the wisdom of not losing sight of the overall objective; of knowing when to continue the fight, but also knowing when to cut his losses and run. In other words, know when to go for the straight sabbac but also know when to fold the hand.

Unfortunately, it seemed that all that was being considered was detail. Talk about not being able to see the forest for the trees. Kardde felt as if he was walking in quicksand. Something needed to be done to rouse the New Republic leaders from their fascination with administrivia. But just what that would be eluded Kardde. He glanced at Luke, but the Jedi Master seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mara Jade rise from her seat at the end of the table. Oh oh, Kardde thought, this could be interesting.

For most of the past two days, Mara Jade had kept to herself. Talon Kardde knew that Mara was not one to, how did she put it, "suffer fools gladly", and he was certain that she would have been suffering considerably if she had been present since the meetings had begun. Kardde also knew that Mara and Luke had been seen in deep conversation the previous evening, and he suspected that it was only Luke's influence that had led her to attend the afternoon session.

Mara had already provided Kardde with a report on her encounter with Voss Parck and the Thrawn loyalists, and further, the news that she and Luke would be getting married. Surprisingly, or maybe not, Kardde told himself, he found that he missed her already. Yes, Mara had been a valuable and cherished member of his crew, but it was more than that. She had been his second for more than a decade, and they had settled into a comfortable, if somewhat challenging relationship. Mara had never been one to pull her punches and he had come to rely on her Force-honed instincts and her straightforward manner. More than friends, they respected and trusted each other. Mara's "danger sense" had saved them all on more than one occasion and Kardde was not one to forget where his loyalty lay. I Hope you know how lucky you are, Skywalker, Kardde thought to himself.

Kardde glanced at Luke. The Jedi Master appeared to be deep in thought. But Kardde was convinced the faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of Luke's lips, and with a confidence born of certainty, he knew. They had planned this out last night. Silently laughing to himself, he didn't know whether he should feel grateful to Luke and Mara, or sorry for the New Republic leadership.

All eyes followed Mara Jade as she approached General Garm Bel Iblis. All conversation had died by the time Mara reached the general. Kardde stole a look at Luke. It was almost as if they were mentally communicating with each other, Karrde considered. Of course. Through the Force!

"General Bel Iblis, may I address this meeting?" Mara asked.

Bel Iblis looked at the other members of the New Republic leadership. Ponc Gavrissom was officially President of the New Republic, but all who knew, knew that former High Councillor Leia Organa Solo was still the one to whom all eyes turned. And so did his. There was barely the slightest nod.

"Certainly, Mara," Bel Iblis responded. "We would be pleased to hear from you."

Mara heard Luke's amused snort through their Force-link. His presence comforted her in a way she didn't quite understand. But she needed all her concentration if they were to pull this off. Stay out of my mind, farmboy, she sent back along the link. It won't do for me to suddenly break out laughing.

I love you, was the response, as Luke broke the link.

I love you, too.

"General." she said. "I have been listening to this debate for most of the afternoon, and all I can say is, if these are the kinds of things that need to be answered before you proceed with Kardde's proposal, how did the New Republic ever win the Rebellion?"

Bel Iblis was taken aback at Mara's statement. On the other hand, Mara seemed unperturbed by his reaction.Oh Force, Bel Iblis, Karrde thought to himself, she hasn't even begun to let you know what she thinks.

Mara continued her attack. "Who would be the contact? Would this person or persons also be in contact with the Empire? How would intelligence be provided to the New Republic? How would the proper authorities verify the accuracy of the information provided? How would the Empire react if information were not provided simultaneously? How can we be sure that the Empire will not use any intelligence against the New Republic?"

"Sithspawn!"

The room exploded in sound. "Who does she think she is?' "She can't talk to us like that." "She's nothing but a smuggler. Who gave her the right —"

"I gave her that right."

As suddenly as it had begun, all conversation ceased.

Luke Skywalker rose and walked to where Mara had remained standing calmly, like the eye of the hurricane.

"This endless attention to detail is not what we need to be addressing. Kardde has put an incredible proposal before us. Think of the opportunity it affords us. Admiral Pellaeon intends to follow through on his offer to negotiate a treaty with the New Republic. After more than twenty years of fighting with the Empire, we are just days away from something we have sought for so long — peace. And with the information that Artoo retrieved from Thrawn's data files, we now have a genuine copy of the Caamas Document. Think of what that means."

"Luke, I understand that these are tremendous achievements," Bel Iblis replied, "but we cannot rush into this arrangement with Captain Kardde unless we are certain that it is the right thing to do."

"General, I'm not sure you really understand. The Caamas Document will allow us to end this bickering and internecine squabbling that has nearly torn the New Republic apart. Supreme Commander Admiral Pellaeon," and Luke stressed Pellaeon's rank, "waits for us on his flagship, the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera. He has stated his intentions, and I feel no mendacity from him, not from his words, not from his actions, and not in the Force. If we are to be confident that the peace will hold, we need to be able to trust any information brought to us in the future. More importantly, the Empire must be convinced that we are not scheming to undo what will be written into the treaty. What better way to satisfy both goals than with a neutral third party providing information to both groups simultaneously?"

Without another word, Luke turned his back on the assembled New Republic representatives. His Jedi cloak swirling behind him, he left the room; Mara Jade followed Luke. Feeling somewhat chastened, Bel Iblis addressed Kardde.

"Would you mind explaining your proposal one more time, Captain?"

Kardde wondered what the effort had cost. I'll pay for this later, I'm sure, Karrde noted to himself. But that's for another time.

"Certainly, General. This is how I see it functioning …"

A/N — In case anyone is wondering, the Prologue is based on quotes from _Vision of the Future_ VotF and one of the _New Jedi Order_ NJO books. Which one I don't recall as I wrote this long ago and my distaste for the NJO has led me to pass my copies to others. The timeline of the story is coincident with the end of VotF and the next six months or so.

Comments please … if there is no interest in the story I will not bother with the rest …


	4. Secrets

OOOPPPSSS ... I missed this important chapter when uploding ... I have renumbered all the existng chapters and added this one now.

* * *

From his command chair, Admiral Gilad Pellaeon surveyed the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. To his left, Captain Ardiff was deep in conversation with the communications officer. For more than a week, they had been in orbit near Yaga Minor. Pellaeon found waiting to be the hardest thing to do. He wondered what Grand Admiral Thrawn would have thought of his plans for peace with the New Republic. In the years since Thrawn's death, Pellaeon still found the enigmatic alien a source of wonder. Moreover, he had come to appreciate the insights and counsel Thrawn had provided during their time together. _Ten years since Thrawn's death at the hands of Rukh,_ Pellaeon thought to himself, _and now I have more than 50 years of service. Where have the years gone?_

Pellaeon had always wondered how Thrawn could discern so much about a race by studying their art. Though he had not come close to emulating the achievements of his mentor, he had had success studying the culture of a society to find clues to the traits and characteristics that underlay the strengths and the weaknesses of o given group. Pellaeon grimaced as he ruefully recalled one outcome of his improving skills: the realization that the Empire could not win the war against the New Republic. Based on his analysis, Pellaeon had convinced the eight, now seven, Moffs to support his peace initiative.

_Peace._ For more than fifty years he had served the Empire. Only it really wasn't always the Empire. Lying about his age, he had first served with the Old Republic as a raw recruit of 15. And now, at what he was certain would be the end of his career, he reflected on a lifetime of service. He was the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet. That was something, wasn't it?

Deep inside, Pellaeon knew there was more to it than that. It had to do with a trait that seemed in short supply — honor. To Pellaeon, honor was more than just a quaint word or a term of respect. It was a way of life. It infused the Admiral's every action. _What about Disra,_ Pellaeon thought. _Honor was something Disra would certainly know nothing about. Bleeding the Empire from within._ Pellaeon shook his head ruefully. Disra was not unique. There had been those few years with Daala after Thrawn's death.

Pellaeon shuddered as he recalled Daala's concept of honor. And yet, at the end, she had done the honorable thing and turned the fleet over to him. _Maybe honor still means something,_ Pellaeon mused. _If Karrde's conduct is indicative, then maybe there is hope_. Sighing to himself, he wondered what the galaxy was coming to when he found his enemies more honorable than his allies.

* * *

Once again, Pellaeon found himself wondering at the turn of events. He recalled the first time he encountered General Bel Iblis. He and Thrawn had engaged the general in a race — a race that the Empire had won. The prize? Nothing less than the _Katana_ fleet. Now, more than a decade later, Bel Iblis sat across from him discussing supply lines, sector borders and mutual defense pacts. Surprisingly, Pellaeon found Bel Iblis to be far more flexible and understanding than he expected the general would be. Maybe it was because Bel Iblis was more than a politician. He was also a military leader, able to grasp the issues that would elude anyone not familiar with the challenges of defending an empire or a republic.

Pellaeon marveled at the irony. Here was the author of the Corellian Treaty — the agreement that led to the crystallization of the Rebellion — negotiating with the Empire for peace. A week of hard work had resulted in a draft pact. Now the waiting began as the New Republic Senate on Coruscant and the Moffs on Bastion looked for flaws — "for ways to undo what we've done," Bel Iblis had dryly remarked.

"Excuse me Admiral," Captain Ardiff signaled.

"Yes?"

"General Bel Iblis, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, High Councilor Leia Organa Solo, Captain Karrde, and his second, Mara Jade, are here to see you, sir."

"Thank You. Please escort them to the secondary bridge. I'll be right there."

* * *

As he approached the turbolift that would take him down to the secondary bridge, Admiral Pellaeon pondered the way things had turned out. What was the expression he was looking for? Oh yes. _What goes around, comes around._. It was on the secondary bridge that Grand Admiral Thrawn had planned his campaign against the Rebels — the New Republic, he corrected himself. It was on the secondary bridge that Thrawn had died. And it would be on the secondary bridge that the Rebellion would end, for with the recognition of the New Republic by the Empire, there was no Rebellion. There would be peace.

"Captain Ardiff," Pellaeon signaled.

"Sir."

"Would you ask Colonel Vermel join me on the secondary bridge, please. I will be there in a few minutes. Also, after you escort the New Republic representatives to the conference, I would appreciate if you would await my arrival as well."

"Yes, sir."

Pellaeon smiled at the enthusiasm in Ardiff's voice. He thought about how young Ardiff had been when they had both served under Thrawn. _We were all younger then,_ Pellaeon sighed.

* * *

As Pellaeon entered the secondary bridge, he saw that his officers had seated themselves across from the representatives of the New Republic. They seemed to be engaging in the sort of amiable chit-chat that always takes place before any serious discussions begin. Before introductions could be made, General Bel Iblis spoke up.

"Admiral," Bel Iblis began, "I want to once again commend you for the risk you took in attempting to contact the New Republic. High Councilor Leia Organa Solo told me about Colonel Vermel. I trust he is well."

"Yes, thank you," replied Pellaeon with a smile. "But ask him yourself. He is sitting directly across from you." And allow me to introduce the _Chimaera's_ captain, Captain Ardiff."

Vermel nodded to Bel Iblis in the unspoken military acknowledgement of one officer to another.

Bel Iblis continued, "I believe you already know most of the other members of our delegation. Allow me to introduce Captain Karrde's second, Mara Jade."

"Thank you, General," Pellaeon replied. "Now, to what do we owe the pleasure of this meeting?"

Bel Iblis glanced at Leia, then continued. "As you know, the, ah, politicians, of both the New Republic and the Empire have been working on the details of the peace treaty. But the basic outline is as you specified to Councilor Solo and Trustant A'kla when you first met with them."

"So this is not about the treaty, then?" the Admiral asked.

"Well, it is and it isn't."

All eyes turned to Luke as he spoke for the first time.

"Admiral, you may not believe it when I say this, but we bear no anger toward you, your crew and any other being who served the Empire." Luke flexed his right hand unconsciously, as if he felt again Vader's slash on Cloud City. "It was a war back then, and in war, one did what one needed to do to win."

Pellaeon stared at the Jedi Master. Those were the very words he had spoken to himself when Talon Karrde had approached him following the unmasking of Flim and Tierce.

Leia continued. "Admiral, the treaty we have drafted has no victors, no vanquished. There are only peoples. For all of my adult life, I have been battling the Empire. And now I want to be at peace. There is no point in trying to extract vengeance for actions in the past. I was a Senator when Palpatine declared himself Emperor. I watched from the first Death Star as Governor Tarkin destroyed my home planet of Alderaan. How many were lost when Kyp Durron used the Sun Crusher to destroy Carrida?"

Leia seemed to shudder as the memory of all those lives lost rippled through the Force. But she pressed on.

"Can we bring those beings back? No. All we can do is move forward with the pledge of _never again._"

In spite of himself, Pellaeon was moved by the sincerity of the Jedi Master and Councilor Organa Solo.

"So how does this relate to the treaty, as Master Skywalker indicated?"

Bel Iblis responded. "As you may recall, Captain Karrde mentioned to you that he had a, what did he call it, oh yes, a notion, that he wanted to place before the New Republic and then you. Captain, what was it you told me you said to the Admiral?"

An embarrassed-looking Karrde responded: "I said 'By the time I have this notion, finalized, the New Republic leadership will wonder how they ever got along without it.'"

Unable to keep the mirth out of his voice, Bel Iblis faced Pellaeon. "Well, as it turns out, Captain Karrde may have been right in his assessment."

General Bel Iblis paused, then continued. "If there is to be a lasting peace, the first thing we need to establish is mutual trust. And as a military man, I don't have to tell you how hard that is to do and how critical it will be to the success of the treaty."

Again Bel Iblis paused. "And I don't think I have to tell you that there are groups within both the New Republic and the Empire that will do all they can to undermine the treaty and all we have accomplished here. These groups prefer war to peace, as uncertain times suits these beings."

Pellaeon nodded. "I agree that there will be elements on both sides that will do their best to blow the treaty apart, but I fail to see where or how this involves me."

"That is where Captain Karrde's proposal comes in. Karrde, would you please explain your plan to the Admiral?"

"Thank you, General," Karrde responded. "Admiral, it is actually quite simple. What I am proposing to you now is what I had in mind that day when we rode over to the _Errant Venture_. It has taken all my persuasive powers, and then some — Karrde glanced at Luke and Mara with a smile — to convince the New Republic of the merits of my proposal. After much debate, Admiral Drayson has at least agreed to a trial run."

"And what exactly is this idea of yours, Karrde?" Pellaeon demanded.

"Actually, it is quite simple Admiral. Essentially, I am proposing that a neutral third party serve as an intelligence gathering body for both the New Republic and the Empire. As Councilor Solo pointed out, the key to a stable peace is both sides knowing the other side is not plotting some kind of move against them. I am certain that Bastion wouldn't trust the New Republic intelligence network, and Coruscant definitely won't trust yours. That's where my organization comes in. Although neither side would willingly admit it, we straddle both regimes and it is not too hard to change our focus. My organization is well equipped to gather and assemble information. We'll simply now be supplying it to your two governments instead of to private buyers."

Pellaeon reflected on Karrde's proposal. _It must be this bridge,_ he mused. It was in this very room that Grand Admiral Thrawn had said of Karrde: _Talon Karrde is not merely a smuggler, you see. More than anything else in the galaxy, he craves knowledge._

Pellaeon looked at Ardiff and Vermel. Both seemed lost in thought, but the Admiral knew they were struggling with a notion that was alien to their entire training — cooperating with the New Republic. And then, almost in unison, they nodded.

"Very well, General," Pellaeon replied. "I will discuss this proposal with my key officers. But I still remain uncertain why you seek my approval? Is this not something that should be part of the treaty?"

Leia answered for Bel Iblis. "Ordinarily, yes, and in the end, it will be part of the treaty. But without the support of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, it will be a balmy day on Hoth before the Moffs agree to Karrde's plan. In their eyes, he is nothing more than a smuggler and only slightly better than a loose Rancor."

Mara noticed the amusement in Karrde's eyes. "Remind me not to ask Councilor Solo for a reference," he whispered to his second.

The Admiral saw Luke glance at Bel Iblis and receive a nod.

"Admiral, there is something else you need to know. Something that I believe will validate Karrde's proposal. But it is essential that the information not leave this room."

All three Imperial officers looked startled. Captain Ardiff was the first to find his voice. "Are you sure you should be telling us whatever you plan to say?"

"Yes," was Luke's response. "If trust is to be the foundation of the treaty, it must start with a strong cornerstone, and what better way to prove our sincerity than to begin by sharing information that I think will be of interest to you?"

Now it was not just the Imperials who were staring at Luke.

"Admiral, do you remember Voss Parck?"

"Parck?" Pellaeon replied. "Who in the Empire wouldn't know of Voss Parck? But he's dead."

"No, Admiral," Mara Jade interjected. "He is not. He is quite alive. Luke and I had an encounter with him, Baron Soontir Fel and a race with which they have formed an alliance in the Unknown Regions."

The reaction of both Pellaeon and his officers and Leia and Bel Iblis would have been no different if a krayt dragon had suddenly appeared on the bridge.

"Soontir Fel? Alive? Impossible. Isard had him killed."

"He is very much alive, I assure you," Luke answered. "He and Parck are allied with a race called the Chiss. In fact, we knew one of their kind many years ago, although at the time, we did not know that he was a Chiss. His full name was Mitth'raw'nuruodo."

Pellaeon felt the blood drain from his face. The silence on the bridge was palpable.

"Thrawn."

"Yes."


	5. The Tapcafe

The three of them slowly walked down what passed for the main thoroughfare of the spaceport. Karrde and Shada were side-by-side, with Dankin slightly behind them. Even though they were trying to be discreet, they were failing miserably.

"The, ahh, natives seem rather restless tonight," Shada observed, to no one in particular.

Karrde nodded. He had already noticed the surreptitious glances and the outright stares from the local inhabitants, and the few that had dared to make eye contact were none too friendly.

"Mara reported that the people here were cautious and somewhat hesitant to interact with strangers, no matter how friendly they appeared," was his response. Nonetheless, he paused and looked at Shada, as if encouraging her to go on.

"Well, maybe so, Karrde, but something doesn't ring true here. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I don't like it," Shada replied.

"I'm no less concerned, but if we are to locate Jorj Car'das, we will have to take a few risks. Dankin, what do the ship's sensors say?"

Speaking quietly into the comm, Dankin listened to the reply.

"Nothing's registered as weapons, if that's what you mean. But I think Shada's on to something. According to the message we received, the tapcafe should have been right about here. All I see is a run down brothel and a few even more run down patrons."

"Ahh," was Karrde's reply. "What better way to disguise a place so that only those who are supposed to be here know where to go to find the establishment? This is the place."

With obvious distaste, Dankin and Shada approached the entrance. The few signs identifying the business had long since lost their battle with the elements. Faded and tattered, the only recognizable words were _Katana_ and _Corellia_. Looking as if he had not a care in the world, Karrde entered, followed by Dankin and a very suspicious Shada. Automatically, she fell back into her role as a bodyguard. Twelve years with Mazzic had imprinted onto her subconscious and she was moving before she even knew that she was. Stepping in front of Karrde, she forced him to stop.

"Listen, Karrde, I just don't like this. If this is really a tapcafe, where is the doorman? I haven't even seen a droid since we headed down this way. And those run-down patrons have suddenly disappeared."

As if on cue, a rather burly individual appeared.

"Can I help you?" was all he said, his tone indicating that help was not what he had in mind.

"Yes, you can," was Karrde's response. "We are supposed to meet with General Jutka. We don't want to keep the general waiting, do we now?" Keeping his tone soothing, Karrde continued. "I'm sure we will be no bother for your regular patrons."

Grumbling to himself, the doorman, if that's what he was, gestured for the three of them to follow him. He led them to a table at the back of the tapcafe, for as Karrde had said, the brothel was a front for the real business. Shada was certain that the "front" was more than that, and that other business was also conducted on the premises.

Seating herself so she could keep an eye on both Karrde and the entrance, she noticed the amused look on Dankin's face.

"What?" she demanded of him.

"Nothing," was the reply. But his body language said otherwise. Turning to Karrde, she waited for him to say something as well. But to her surprise, the look on his face was one of approval. Ruefully, Shada contemplated her boast that she was nobody's bodyguard anymore.

"So you understand that we do not intend to remain in your space long." she heard Karrde say. Since the meeting had begun, Shada had only half-listened to the conversation between Dankin, Karrde and this general Jutka. She had kept a wary eye on the comings and goings of the other patrons in the tapcafe. Try as she might, Shada could not shake the feeling that the entire exercise was a sham. The movements of the tapcafe's staff and customers seemed too deliberate, too planned. It was like watching one of those holo-plays, where the crime comes at the beginning. The only uncertainty was how the perpetrator would be unmasked in the end. Nagging at her was the feeling that she had missed a vital clue. If only she could concentrate …

All of a sudden, she knew.

"Karrde," she shouted above the din of the tapcafe. "We have to leave. Now."

"But Shada," Karrde replied in an reproachful tone. "General Jutka has not yet given us his consent to our traveling through this sector. It would be most impolite to abandon these talks without good reason. And so far, I see no reason to do so."

"I don't care. We have to go. Now."

With a sigh, General Jutka trained his blaster on Karrde.

"You know," he said, "it would have been so much simpler if you had just kept going. Why you had to try to cross through this sector is something I will never understand. It wasn't as if this were the only route. But the bounty is just too large to ignore. Nothing personal, Karrde, I hope you understand. And please ask your associates to restrain themselves. The staff do so hate to have to clean up bodies."

He glanced at Shada. "Yes dear, that means you, too. So please keep your hands where I can see them."

Caught in the act of reaching for one of the lacquered _zenji_ needles that she had masquerading as hairpins, Shada paused. She slowly lowered her hands, all the while seeking a weakness, a way out of the tapcafe. Reluctantly, she concluded there was none. _Well, Shada,_ she told herself, _you always knew there would come a time when the odds would be against you. So what do you do now? It's not like you signed on with Karrde as his bodyguard. He's not Mazzic, you know._ Shada grimaced and instantly chided herself for thinking that way. _You know you as good as signed on when you agreed to go along with him. You're in this as surely as if you'd signed a contract._

Shada glanced at Dankin. As she watched, he blinked his eyes, once twice and then again. He looked at Shada to make sure she'd seen what he'd just done. With the barest of nods, she acknowledged his signal. She slowly turned her head to see if Karrde had caught his crewmate's action, but if he did, he gave no indication. Taking a deep breathe, Shada turned again to Dankin, just as the table exploded into fragments as a bolt from Dankin's hidden blaster struck Jutka in the chest.

Immediately, the tapcafe disintegrated into chaos. Ignoring the bedlam around her, Shada turned towards Karrde to drag him away. Out of nowhere, she saw a knife flung in their direction. As quick as she was, she wasn't fast enough. The knife struck Karrde squarely in the heart, and without a word, he toppled over onto the table's fragments.

With a cry that seemed to come from the bottom of her soul, Shada screamed "Noooooooo …"


	6. The Wardroom

With a cry that seemed to come from the bottom of her soul, Shada screamed "Noooooooo …"

* * *

… as she woke from her sleep to find the covers of her bunk tossed on the floor, her nightclothes drenched in sweat. _Not again,_ she wearily sighed to herself. _This is the third time in eight days I've been trapped in this nightmare. OK,_ she corrected herself. _Not exactly the same nightmare_. But the outcome always seemed to be the same — Karrde was dead and she had failed her duty to him. 

Shada D'ukal reflected on the twisted path her life had taken the past few months. From being a trusted employee and a valuable part of Mazzic's organization, she was now an outcast. Exiled from Emberlene and expelled from the Mistryl, she had agreed to continue working with Talon Karrde after he had convinced the Elder to expunge the deathmark placed after Shada's run-in with Karoly. She grimly reflected on the days since she had bested her one-time colleague. Her attempts to meet up with Leia Organa Solo to offer her services to the New Republic had initially been rebuffed. After infiltrating a secret meeting between Leia and Talon Karrde at the Orowood Tower, Shada ended up working for Karrde as part of his mission to locate Jorj Car'das.

They had found Car'das and when offered a choice between a datacard that contained the names of the mercenaries who had destroyed the planet Emberlene, and one that contained information on Flim, Grodin Tierce, and Moff Disra, her choice had been remarkably easy and painless. She and Karrde returned to Admiral Pellaeon and handed over the latter card. _Maybe it was because the Emberlene I_ thought _I knew no longer existed._ Indeed, Shada wondered if it ever did. In their thirst for vengeance on those who had laid waste to their homeworld, the Mistryl leaders had become so focused on their quest that they had lost sight of why they bore such a responsibility.

Shada shivered as she gathered her bunk covers from where they had fallen. The nightmares bothered her. Not just because they were nightmares, but because she never _had_ nightmares. Gathering her knees and holding the covers around her, she reflected upon her actions. Deep down, Shada knew why she had acted the way she had. _It was for honor,_ she told herself. _And my honor is the one thing that no one can take from me._

But as with any action, there is always a price to pay. And now Shada contemplated where she would be, and what she would be doing in the months and years to come. She had no illusions about herself. She knew she could easily pass for someone years younger than her real age, and her Mistryl training and background would enable that impression to be maintained into the foreseeable future. _But honor does not pay the bills or feed and clothe you,_ Shada mused. _I guess I could offer my services to Karrde as a bodyguard,_ she told herself. _But would he want me, or even need me? After all, he has Mara Jade, and she is a Jedi._

Shada sighed to herself again as she glanced at the chrono. 04:44 greeted her eyes. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to sleep again. Shada weighed the odds of another nightmare against the certainty that she would be a walking zombie if she didn't get some sleep. _Damn, I must be getting old. I used to be able go without sleep for days._ Cursing silently, Shada buried her head in the pillow, and hoped she would find escape.

* * *

"Credit for your thoughts."

Mara turned from the viewport to look at Luke as he handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He sipped from his own mug before continuing.

"Sad at leaving this place?"

Mara gazed at the familiar, comfortable confines of the _Wild Karrde's_ wardroom.

"In a way, yes," she said with a sigh. "The best years of my life were spent here with Karrde on this ship and on the _Jade's Fire_. I'll miss this life, Luke. But I've been through changes before and this time," she said reaching for his hand, "the change was MY choice. The changes will be my changes. Karrde left the decisions as to who takes over what part of my duties entirely in my hands. And I intend to do just that."

"I understand, but did you have to do it so early in the morning," asked Luke with a fake yawn that ended in a laugh.

"You can go back to bed, sleepyhead. I can interview the crew myself. As much as I value your company and your insights, I can manage by myself. Besides, you're, aah, going to need your rest." The twinkle in her eye and the almost hidden smile brought more laughter from the Jedi Master.

_It iss good to see you happy Miss Jade._

H'sishi had quietly entered the room and now stood across the table from Luke and Mara.

_Greetings to you Master Skywalker. Did you both wish to see me?_

"Actually Luke is just here for his insights, and ..."

_And because you find his company pleasurable. That is understandable, he seems, if I understand the wants and needs of human females, quite adequate as a potential mate._

Luke blushed and Mara stammered, for once at a loss for words, at H'sishi's blunt observations. The Togarian looked confused at this reaction.

_Perhaps I have misread the signals. You had the appearance of a bonded couple when I saw you on the __Errant Venture. Humans ARE hard to understand._

No, H'sishi, you are quite right," said Luke, "we are bonded."

"And that" continued Mara, "is what I wanted to talk to you about. Luke and I are to be married soon and I'll be leaving Karrde's organization. I'm looking for people to take over my duties."

_Ah, and you like my advice on who can do what you do? It will take many people to replace you, Miss Jade._

" I thought that you could take over some of my responsibilities, H'sishi. Karrde has great confidence in you. But I would like to hear your thoughts regarding some of the others."

_Shada could do most of what you do, except fill the empty spot in the Chieftain's heart with your leaving._

Mara turned to Luke. She knew he was wondering why Mara would be asking such questions, encouraging gossip really, about other members of Karrde's crew.

"Luke, H'sishi, like most Togorians, is an innate judge of character."

* * *

Tossing and turning on her bunk, Shada found no respite from the fatigue induced by her nightmares. She soon found herself engaged in a rather (or so she thought) perverse game of "guess the time" as she checked the chrono. _At least my time sense hasn't been affected by my lack of sleep_, she ruefully noted. The game soon lost its novelty as Shada decided that sleep with nightmares was preferable to no sleep at all. But despite her best efforts, sleep eluded Shada. _Kriff, this is not getting me anywhere,_ she grimly thought. _I might as well get dressed and have something to eat_. 

Checking the time, she soon found herself heading to the wardroom of the _Wild Karrde_. _At least I won't have to explain why I'm up at this time of the night,_ she ironically noted to herself. _Most of the crew will still be asleep_. Lost in thought, it was only as she entered the wardroom that Shada became aware that she would not be alone. Sitting quietly in a corner, she saw Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade engaged in conversation. Her tired senses soon registered a new sensation as an unfamiliar aroma worked its way into her consciousness. Unsure of whether she would be intruding on a private conversation or even if she would be welcomed by Karrde's second, Shada just stood frozen in place, as if she had taken root in the floor.

It was Mara who broke the spell.

"Shada, you're up early. Or is it late?"

Uhh, no, I'm up early," she stammered.

"Would you care to join Luke and me for a hot chocolate? I know that Karrde's crew consider this beverage unsuitable for a smuggler, but I must admit to being partial to it." Mara smiled. "And the fact that a certain Jedi Master introduced me to it doesn't hurt either."

Still not certain what to do, Shada merely nodded.

"So are you planning to stand there all day, or do you intend to join Luke and Mara?" a familiar voice demanded of Shada. Whirling, she saw Talon Karrde standing there, a smile on his lips, but concern in his eyes. Shock rippled across her face. _Sith_, she thought. _I must be more tired than I even realized. Walking into the galley and not knowing that there were others here. And now Karrde comes up behind me and I didn't even sense him. Some Mistryl shadow guard you're turning out to be, Shada D'ukal._

Suddenly, Mara rose from her seat.

"Karrde, what are you doing here? And why did you scare the spit out of Shada?

Taken aback at the fierce tone of her voice, Karrde stepped into the wardroom.

"Mara, you _know_ I always rise at this hour. I just didn't expect to find anyone else here. I overheard you invite Shada to join you, and when she didn't move, I thought I might startle her by simply brushing by her. It would not have been polite."

Mara's anger seemed to disappear as Talon explained his actions.

"At least you could have knocked on the door to let us know you were there."

"I'll make sure I do in the future."

As Mara sat down again, Luke leaned over and whispered something to her. Mara glanced sharply at Shada, who had not moved since her entry into the wardroom. Mara looked back at Luke and he nodded his head. Again she glanced at Shada, and then at Luke. Without saying another word, Luke stood, and quietly kissed Mara. Her response was a smile that would put a nova to shame.

Turning to Karrde, Mara was all business.

"Karrde, get out of here and take my farmboy with you. Go find breakfast somewhere else. I'll let you know when you can come back. And make sure you post a notice for the rest of the crew. This room is off-limits for the next while. Now, go!"


	7. A Pensive Karrde

Luke and Karrde left the wardroom, and even as he moved to the bridge, Mara sensed Talon's concern. Making sure the door was sealed, Mara turned to Shada, who still had not moved since she had entered the galley.

"Sit down, please. You didn't say whether or not you wanted some hot chocolate. Can I get you some?"

"Look, Mara, you don't have to patronize me. I'm not a child any more. I know what's going on. You think I'm muscling in on you and Karrde. You think I'm going to take advantage of the rapport Talon and I developed when I went with him to find Jorj Car'das while you were ... not there. Well, I'm telling you now, all I want is to be his bodyguard. I don't want to take your place in his affections or anything. But I need a job and I have years of experience serving as a full-time bodyguard."

Shada paused, as Mara remained standing.

"But if it bothers you to have a woman be his bodyguard, well I can understand that. I wouldn't want my man — if I had one — to have another female constantly at his side ..."

"Whoa. Wait a minute, back up there. Just what sort of a 'relationship' do you think I have with Talon Karrde?"

"Well, I've heard that you are very close, and he IS an attractive man, and ..."

"Shada, what was YOUR relationship with Mazzic?"

"He was my boss, I was his bodyguard. Nothing more, nothing less," Shada replied indignantly. _Oh kriff,_ Shada thought to herself. She realized that she had come to the same erroneous conclusions about Mara and Karrde that people often made about her and Mazzic.

Before she could apologize, Mara smiled and said, "That's alright, many people have made the same mistake. But the truth is, you're not entirely wrong, either. The relationship we have DOES go beyond the simple boss and employee relationship. Karrde is like the brother I never had, the father I never knew. I think there was a time when our relationship could have been more, had I encouraged him. But I was far too obsessed with my personal losses, and my vendetta against the man I thought was responsible for the destruction of all I held dear, to be of any use to anyone as a companion. After I came to know Luke well, and I, aah, stopped trying to kill him, no other man had a chance to win my heart."

Shada's eyes grew large as the meaning of Mara's words penetrated her sleep-fogged consciousness. Not only was Mara not involved with Karrde, but it was _Luke Skywalker_ who had won her heart.

"So why do you want to see me? Why did you order Karrde and Luke out of the galley?"

"I wanted to have a chance to talk to you privately. Originally, I was planning to seek you out later in the day to see if you were planning to stay with Karrde and the organization."

"If you and Karrde will have me, I'd like to."

"It's not up to me, I'm leaving as soon as I can tie up loose ends and find suitable replacements to take over my responsibilities. As I'm sure you know, Karrde approves of you. H'sishi speaks very highly of your skills, knowledge, and your sense of honor. And more importantly H'sishi says you'll do."

"You're leaving? But why?"

"It seems for the best," Mara wryly explained. "Luke and I are getting married in a few months, and it wouldn't do for the, aah, temporarily off-duty, Chief of State of the New Republic to have a sister-in-law in the employ of a notorious smuggler."

Mara smiled at Shada's open-mouthed look of disbelief. But even as she opened her mouth to make light of Shada's reaction, Mara sensed what Luke had felt earlier — an almost-unbearable sense of loss radiating through the Force from the former Mistryl shadow guard. _Luke was right. I need to deal with this more than anything else, and now._

* * *

As he and Talon Karrde made their way to the bridge of the _Wilde Karrde_, Luke reached out through the Force to Mara.

_Is Shada allright, Mara? As we were leaving, I felt her loneliness again, this time even stronger than before._

Mara's thoughts came quickly.

_She's alright, at least in a physical sense. But you were right, Luke. I felt her loss this time too, and such a strong sense of loss it was._

Mara paused, and Luke could almost see her hesitation as she continued.

_Luke, it reminds me of how I was when I thought you had destroyed all I held dear. And you know how hard that was for me. At least I had Karrde and his crew to help me. Shada's all alone, exiled from the Mistryl. It's like she's lost and adrift in hyperspace with no way home_.

Luke paused before responding.

_I seem to recall a certain smuggler who "had a hunch" about finding a certain Jedi, adrift after his hyperdrive burned out escaping from Thrawn. And look what happened after that._

Mara's unspoken response was a mixture of embarrassment, laughter and surprising even herself, a sense of awe at the workings of the Force.

_Seriously Mara, if anyone can relate to Shada, you can. Just remind her that she is not alone. And don't forget what Karrde has up his sleeve. If Shada agrees, it will certainly give her back her purpose_.

hr

As he broke the Force link, Luke turned to Karrde.

"OK, Karrde, it's just you and me, now. Why _did_ you come to the wardroom when you did? And to quote Mara, 'why _did_ you scare the spit out of Shada?' "

Karrde grimaced as he replied.

"Can't hide anything from a Jedi, can I. The truth is, I don't know why."

A pair of raised eyebrows was Luke's reply.

"It seemed as if my feet were listening to someone or something beyond my conscious thought. Damned peculiar, if you ask me. I still can't figure it out."

Luke's face softened as he answered Karrde's unvoiced question.

"Given the circumstances, I wouldn't worry too much. Let's just say that, aah, a Force beyond your control governed your actions. And if anyone can help Shada, it will be Mara, so try not to worry so much."

Karrde's shoulders seemed to lose some of their tenseness as he reflected on Luke's words. Nonetheless, he felt he owed Luke an explanation.

"I'm the captain, Luke. It's part of the job description. Article VII, section 5, paragraph 2. Says that the captain is required to worry about the welfare of the crew at least 10 of the time, with an additional 10 permitted on special occasions."

Despite his best efforts, Luke could not hold back his laughter. He glanced at Karrde who was struggling to maintain the serious look with which he had delivered his claim. The result was that Luke laughed even harder. In turn, Karrde's struggle intensified. But it was a losing battle. In a matter of moments, the corridor echoed with their combined laughter — laughter that seemed to go on and on.

On a deeper level, a small part of Luke's mind recognized the laughter as having nothing to do with the circumstances, but rather it was a release from the tension of the past week of negotiations with the Empire and the New Republic on the peace treaty to end the war. But on another level, he noted that it just felt good to laugh. And he suspected Karrde felt the same way too.

All too soon, though, their mutual concern for Shada re-asserted itself. Karrde turned to Luke, and for one of the few times that Luke could recall, there was no banter in his voice, Furthermore, the perpetual smile that graced his face was gone.

"Luke, I really am worried about her. That stuff about the job description is more real than you might think. At least it is for me."

"Shada's in good hands right now, Karrde. And, my old friend, you don't have to convince me about your concern. I seem to recall an incident some years ago when a certain Jedi was your, ahh, shall we say, unwilling guest."

Karrde seemed to wince as Luke's statement brought back memories from ten years earlier.

"You know," Luke continued, "I've always wondered. If things hadn't gone the way they did, would you have turned me over to Thrawn?"

Karrde stopped as they approached the turbolift to the bridge. Luke sensed the struggle within Karrde. Once more he was struck by the openness that Karrde was displaying. This was a side of the smuggler chief that rarely was revealed to anyone. Luke suspected that Mara had been able to penetrate Karrde's protective layer, but he was equally certain that few others had ever done so. In a way, he was honored that Karrde was willing to trust him so.

"Do you _really_ want to know, Luke?"

Luke nodded.

"Yes, if that was the only way I would have been able to save my crew. I would have done anything this side of making an alliance with the Hutts to NOT turn you over, but the safety of my people came before everything."

Karrde seemed to shudder.

"And with Grand Admiral Thrawn at my throat, I was almost prepared to kill you rather than let him get hold of you."

Karrde allowed himself a rueful chuckle.

"Funny, Mara was dead set against me protecting you. She even wanted me to turn Han Solo and Lando Calrissian over to Thrawn at the same time. But you have to understand, I was not aware of her background then, and she had not been with me long enough to really understand my code of honor. I was obliged to protect Solo and Calrissian since they were my guests. But you, you were a different story."

Luke placed his hand on Karrde's shoulder in a wordless acknowledgement of what the admission had cost him.

"Talon, I was eighteen years old when Han Solo, Chewbacca and I left Tatooine in the company of Obi-wan Kenobi. I knew nothing of my heritage or my powers. Since then, the Force has been my guide, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is to trust my feelings. And I sense no ill will in you. If anything, I am proud to be able to call you "friend", for you are indeed a man of honor. And as a wise being once said 'the past is past, changed it cannot be. But the future, aah, the future. Always in motion, is it'. Now, let's get to the bridge, and see if Bel Iblis or Pellaeon have been able to shake their bureaucrats into action."


	8. Revelations and Agreement

I am breaking these into smaller bites … the original chapter was 8,000 words … or would you prefer the LONG version?

* * *

Taking Shada's hand, Mara guided her to the seats near the viewport. "My initial objective was, as I said, to identify those members of Karrde's crew who can take over for me here. It's my opinion that you're the one who can best provide the support and advice I did, especially in light of recent developments — developments that Karrde will explain to you later. But to do to that, Shada, first you need to get your life back together. Why don't you tell me about the nightmares?"

"How did you know? Oh, one of those Jedi things, right?"

"Not really. H'sishi said she didn't think you were sleeping well. Her cabin is right next to yours and you've awakened her several nights the past week. Also, Karrde says you remind him of me when I first joined him. And right now, Luke and I both experienced a sense of loss in the Force, radiating from you. Luke wondered if your situation was hurting you as much as mine did when I thought I was all alone in the galaxy. He suggested I speak with you. That's why I shooed the men away. This is just us, woman to woman."

Shada D'ukal studied the mug of hot chocolate Mara had handed to her after she had seated herself facing the viewport. It's aroma was like nothing she'd smelled before, and the taste was exciting. So much like the memories of her beginnings with the Mistryl. But those days were long gone. Shada let her mind wander back over the years, to friends, colleagues and employers, all gone now. Bitterly, Shada considered the future. Twenty-two years she had spent in the service of the Eleven. And what was she now? An outcast. An exile. No longer a part of the Mistryl, with Emberlene closed to her forever. _Everything I did was done in the name of the Mistryl. And what do I have to show for it? A cabin on a smuggler's ship and the pity of a Jedi._

Mara's head snapped up and she stared at Shada.

"Listen D'ukal, you clearly don't know me very well. Whatever else I may do or say, pity is the one thing that you won't get from me. Get a hold of yourself! You think you have it rough? You're on a luxury cruise compared to what I went through. How would you like to have access to more power than you can imagine and then suddenly have it ripped from you without warning? And worse, to have a dead man controlling your thoughts!"

Shada recoiled from the anger in Mara's voice.

"I was the Emperor's Hand. I could hear his voice anywhere in the Galaxy. I did his bidding. I was his Hand! And then, Luke and Darth Vader destroyed him and I was … nothing. Less than nothing, since without his backing, all the mynocks at the Imperial Court turned on me. Isard wanted the secrets I possessed for herself. Pestage wanted them to rule in Palpatine's place. Tavira wanted them to, well, no one then was sure what she wanted. And me, it seemed I had lost my ability to touch the Force. All I could hear was Palpatine's last command, over and over in my mind – _You will kill Luke Skywalker._ With no resources of my own, I became a privateer. For five years, I eked out an existence, trusting no one, not being _able_ to trust anyone. And then Karrde found me and offered me the opportunity to live a normal life again."

In spite of her earlier reaction, and Mara's anger, Shada found herself enthralled with Mara's account.

"I, ahh, never knew that," Shada hesitantly offered.

"Not many people do. Karrde does, and so do the Solos. But it gets better," Mara grimly continued.

"When Talon found me, I was masquerading as a hyperdrive mechanic, although I really could do the work. So he had me do just that. Soon, however, he realized that I was far more capable than the, ahh, average hyperdrive mechanic. In less than six months, I had become one of his trusted advisors. And I was happy with that."

"About ten years ago, I was comfortable in my routine with Karrde. He was planning to make me his second when my Jedi sense started to kick in again. At first it was just flashes and hunches. I really didn't understand what was happening. Now I know that it was my danger sense beginning to emerge from its, let's just call it, hibernation. The problem was, I was so raw and untrained in the ways of a Jedi that a womp rat would have been more aware than I. And then _they_ came along."

"They?"

"Yes, they. Thrawn and Luke. Oh, it's not the way you think. I had one of my hunches and we found Luke adrift in space. He had burned out his hyperdrive trying to escape from Thrawn. At first we didn't know that Thrawn was after him. But the shock to my system was incredible. It was like being caught in an induction chamber. My Jedi abilities began to re-appear and there was nothing I could do to stop them."

Mara considered a moment.

"I suppose it would have been easier to hold back the moons of Coruscant. But I was younger and Luke's presence revived the Emperor's last command. It was all I could do to keep from killing him. To complicate matters, Han Solo and Lando Calrissian came to Karrde. They were trying to enlist the Smuggler's Alliance in aiding the New Republic. Don't forget, not that many years had passed since the Battle of Endor, and the New Republic was not nearly as secure then as it is now. Talk about complications. We had to keep them from knowing Skywalker was here and we had to keep Skywalker from Thrawn and keep me from Skywalker. In the end, we failed at all tasks."

Mara's voice trailed off and there was one of those all too familiar pauses that come in conversations when long-forgotten memories rise to the surface. Shada looked at Mara, about to encourage her to go on. But Mara seemed lost in her thoughts. Not wanting to interrupt her, Shada considered her own past. Her mind drifted back to events on the Resinem Entertainment Complex roof, when she and Karoly had tangled over the meaning of honor and obedience to the Eleven. It suddenly struck Shada that all her life, she had been bound to an illusion. Oh, maybe not _all_ her life. But long enough. What had she told Karoly that night? _The Mistryl that I joined was an honorable clan of warriors fighting to preserve what was left of our people. Honorable warriors don't knowingly deal in murder. I would hope at least some of the Eleven remember that._ It was Karoly's response that Shada would not, indeed could not, forget. _Maybe the Eleven have changed. Maybe the Mistryl have changed._

"But I haven't. My honor is still what matters to me," Shada murmured, not aware that she spoke aloud. But it was enough to catch Mara's attention.

"Oh yes, where were we? So there we were. Karrde had Luke locked in a storage shed. He had Solo and Calrissian hidden in their ship. He had me off where I wouldn't have to deal with Skywalker. And then Thrawn comes back to Myrkyr, looking for more ysalamari. Of course, Luke escapes from the shed, and I go after him. We're trapped for three days in the forests as Thrawn's stormtroopers try to capture us. In the end, he leaves without Luke, but it marks the end of our base there. Whatever else he was, Thrawn was not one to suffer losses well. And Luke, well, he was, well, Luke."

Mara smiled to herself as she recalled those days more than ten years ago.

"He was so innocent, so naïve, so much the farmboy. And all I wanted to do was kill him. He couldn't understand why. And the compulsion Palpatine had implanted in me was so powerful that I couldn't fight it. In spite of my actions, Luke was worried about me. He seemed to know that I wouldn't do anything to harm him. And as it turned out, he was right."

"Eventually, Luke and I went our separate ways and I prayed to the Force that we would not meet again. But it was not to be. A few months later, Thrawn tricked me into leading him to Karrde's new base. I told you that Thrawn did not forgive, and he never forgot. Turns out that Karrde knew the location of the _Kanata_ fleet. Thrawn had Karrde locked in one of the _Chimaera's_ detention cells, as a prelude to obtaining the information he wanted."

Mara laughed softly.

"The Force must have a perverse sense of humor, since I found myself seeking the assistance of the one person I knew could help. Sith, he _owed_ it to me after we had helped him. And you know what, he came without question, despite my continued claim that I was going to kill him."

Shada gasped. "Skywalker?"

"Yup. He and his infuriating calmness and resolute faith in the Force. You know what he told me? He told me that I didn't really want to kill him. He was right, but the compulsion sure said otherwise. Anyway, to make a long story short, we rescued Karrde. Eventually, I found myself on the Emperor's treasure planet of Wayland, at Mount Tantiss. There we battled the mad Jedi clone, Joruus C'baoth and I fought a clone C'baoth had created. Luuke Skywalker. With Luke's help, I killed the clone, and with the destruction of the clone, the Emperor's compulsion disappeared. I think you know what else happened about that time."

Shada nodded.

"Yes, I do. Thrawn was killed by one of his Noghri bodyguards. The Empire's assaults diminished and the New Republic gained stability as the fighting between the Empire and the New Republic became more of a retreat on the part of the Empire."

Mara acknowledged Shada's statement with a nod of her own, and continued.

"The point I wanted to make, though, was that when I thought my world was at an end, when I thought that there was no one to care for me, that no one would miss Mara Jade if I died, I was wrong. And you're wrong too, Shada, you're so wrong."

"I am not," Shada flared. "Look at you. You're a Jedi. You're going to marry the most renowned Jedi Master in the Galaxy. The hero of the Rebellion. The brother of the Chief of State of the New Republic. You're somebody. I'm nobody. No one cares about me."

Those last words were hurled at Mara almost like a challenge. Mara pondered the hurt Shada bore, and her sense of loss.

"Shada, maybe you do have cause to feel outcast. But be honest. What is it that hurts the most? The loss of what you believed the Mistryl to be or the loss of what they are today? Karrde told me about your actions and your choice of the datacard. Think of what that other datacard would have meant to the Mistryl. I cannot believe you would make the wrong choice. I know you were able to see beyond the quest for vengeance to choose the greater good. You are not alone. That's the one thing you must get out of your mind. You have friends aboard the Wilde Karrde who care deeply for you. In a way, you have the same opportunities I did when Karrde found me. The past is past. You cannot change that, nor should you dwell on it. Look to the future. Think of what you can do now. Think of how your skills will make you succeed at whatever you choose to do. You are a Mistryl Shadow Guard and nobody can take that away from you."

"A Mistryl Shadow Guard? Not anymore, Mara. I'm an exile. I told Karrde that I need some purpose if my life is to mean something. I spent twelve years as Mazzic's bodyguard and then with the snap of a finger, I was expected to toss that away. Well, I'm not like that. When I'm in, I'm in for good. I don't expect charity, but I want it known that I pull my own weight."

Mara kept her face expressionless, but inside, she was exulting at Shada's words. She sought out Luke through their Force-bond and sent him a silent message. _Luke! It worked. She may not be completely convinced, but she's willing to listen. You better make sure Karrde doesn't screw this up_.

"Shada, I told you at the outset, Karrde wants you to stay with his organization. And he has a proposal for you that I think you'll find will challenge your abilities. Maybe you're not a Mistryl anymore as far as the Eleven are concerned, but to Karrde, that is irrelevant. You are a member of his crew, and if there is one thing I can tell you that matters to Karrde, it is his crew. Look around you. I mean, really look around you. Everyone here owes Karrde their loyalty, but it's loyalty willingly granted. Why? Because he's earned it. I've never seen anything quite like it. You were with Mazzic for twelve years. Did you ever see this kind of tightness, this sort of togetherness? I doubt it. It may be a cliché to say that Karrde's crew is more of a family than a crew, but there is truth to that. His organization is one of the most respected —"

Shada interrupted Mara with a snort and an ironic tone: "If you can call a smuggler's organization respected."

"As I was saying, respected … in the sense that Karrde does not abuse his crews, he treats all members of his organization with dignity and most important, he is an honorable gentleman of the old school. His word is his bond and he values that more highly than all the credits that he makes."

Mara softly added "And honor is the one thing that matters most to you, or so you've said. Give Karrde a chance. I think you'll discover that you're not alone anymore."

* * *

As Talon Karrde approached Shada D'ukal's cabin, it seemed to him that he had been down this road before. It wasn't that long ago that he had gone to Shada to explain his actions after their run-in with General Jutka back on Dayark in the Kathol Republic. In retrospect, it had been more of an apology than an explanation. And never one to hide from the truth, Karrde ruefully admitted to himself that he had owed Shada that apology. Now, for some reason that he could not explain, he felt very protective of the former Mistryl Shadow Guard. As he had told Luke, he had always cared about his crews, but with Shada, there seemed to be something more … something more than even with Mara. Not that there had ever been anything with Mara.

When he had rescued her from her self-imposed exile after the death of Palpatine, Karrde had sensed strength and resolve in Mara that he admired and even envied. But he had quickly realized that their relationship would never amount to anything. Trusted crewmates and life-long friends — that was all. And of course, once Skywalker entered the picture, it was only a matter of time. _Strange the way things work out,_ he thought to himself. _Took them long enough to realize that they were meant for each other._ _The hero of the Rebellion. The foremost Jedi Master in the Galaxy. And he was going to marry the Jedi who used to be the Emperor's Hand._ Karrde shook his head as he wondered how Luke and Mara would deal with the circus that their wedding would be. Not to mention those in both the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant who would have collective apoplexy once they heard the news. Well, that was a problem to be dealt with later. Right now, he needed to focus on his plan and make certain that Shada would realize how this would give her the purpose she needed.

Feeling uncharacteristically hesitant, he knocked on her door.

"Shada, this is Karrde. May I come in?"

There was no reply, but the cabin door opened for him. Entering, he was immediately struck by the change in her demeanor. Karrde saw at once that the brittleness and sense of loss that had seemed to surround Shada like a shadow was gone. She smiled weakly as he approached, but from Karrde's perspective, it was like the sun coming out after a long rainstorm.

"I guess I wasn't much of a Mistryl the last few days," she began. "No, don't say anything. There are a few things I need to say first, and if you stop me, I might lose my nerve."

Taking a deep breath, Shada continued.

"I know I haven't properly thanked you for what you did for me back on the _Relentless_. The fact is, Karrde, you didn't owe me anything. I came along on your quest willingly. I freely chose the datacard that you gave to Admiral Pellaeon. And more than that, I felt no guilt or regrets. But it would be unprofessional not to acknowledge your efforts on my behalf. More than that, it would be wrong. So thank you."

"You're welcome." Karrde answered. "You know, the things that I said a while ago, I meant what I said. You're not alone. You may not be a Mistryl Shadow Guard as far as the Eleven are concerned, but that doesn't matter to me. What does count is loyalty and honor and if I may be so bold, those are qualities that you possess in abundance. And besides, you don't stop being a Mistryl Shadow Guard just because they say you're not a Mistryl Shadow Guard. You can't ignore twenty years of training and experience."

Shada acknowledged Karrde's comments with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Maybe so, Karrde. But it doesn't change anything for me. I'm still exiled from Emberlene. Despite your views, I really am not a Mistryl Shadow Guard anymore. And here I sit, wondering what to do next. Which reminds me. What was Mara talking about when she said you had a proposal that I'll find will 'challenge my abilities'."

"Let me ask you something first," Karrde responded. "Are you willing to stay with my organization and work with me? I want you to know that in the short time we've worked together, I've come to value your skills and insights, and I would be pleased to count you as part of the _Wilde Karrde's_ crew. You don't have to answer right away, but —"

"Karrde, as Mara reminded me, I spent twelve years with Mazzic as his bodyguard. In all that time, I never felt the same openness that I have felt here. More than that, you are an honorable man, despite what others may say. I would be happy to join your crew."

Karrde let out a breathe that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Besides, it's not like I have anything else to do at the moment," Shada continued. Karrde could tell that the smile on her face belied the bitterness that would have accompanied those words a day earlier. "So, what is this plan?"

"I'm sure you're aware that the war against the Empire is now officially over as a peace treaty is to be signed between the New Republic and the Empire."

"Yes, I heard. Dankin and Aves are already running a pool as to how long it will last, and which side will be the one to break it." Shada chucked as she recalled H'sishi's query. _I do not underssstand. Why would they wager on the failure of something they have wanted for so long?_

"My, my, aren't they being industrious. Tell me, what's the current line?"

"So far, the betting is about 70:30 that the treaty will last two years. But it turns around when we look five years forward."

"And, ahh, what did you bet"?

"I haven't Karrde. I plan to stay out of it. As a Mistryl, I am above politics."

Karrde couldn't help but smile to himself as he listened to Shada's response. Despite her earlier protestations that "she was no longer a Mistryl Shadow Guard", it would take some time before she really believed it — if at all.

"Well, my proposal is intended to see that the pool is a long time paying off. I have proposed that a neutral third party serve as an intelligence gathering body for both the New Republic and the Empire. The key to a stable peace is both sides knowing that the other side is not plotting some kind of move against them. I doubt that the Empire would trust the New Republic intelligence network, and Coruscant definitely won't trust the Empire's. That's where we come in. Although neither side would willingly admit it, we straddle both regimes and it is not too hard to change our focus. My organization is well equipped to gather and assemble information. We'll simply now be supplying it to the two governments instead of to private buyers."

"So where do I come in?"

"I would think that would be obvious. With your experience as a Mistryl, I would like you to play a major role in the intelligence organization."

"Karrde, you've got yourself a deal."


	9. Meetings and messages

"Mara Jade ... Skywalker. Come on, sleepyhead. Time to get up."

Mara Jade acknowledged Luke's softly-spoken urging with a grunt. Snuggling deeper into the comfort of the covers, she buried her head in the pillow. Sleeping in was a treat too rarely earned on board the _Wilde Karrde,_ and Mara was determined to enjoy every minute of her new-found freedom. At the same time, she smiled to herself, careful not to let Luke sense her wakefulness through the Force. She rolled the name around in her mind. _Mara Jade Skywalker_. She and Luke were meant for each other, that was clear. _Mara Jade Skywalker. _Mara pondered how the union of their names seemed so ... _so right._ Her melding with Luke during the fight against the sentinel droids had brought her to clarity. _It was like I was a crystal slightly out of phase and now I am in tune_. She chided herself for all the years she had wasted, hiding behind a wall of indifference, afraid to make a real commitment. _The truth is, you weren't ready for it, were you Mara?_ She knew the answer without thinking.

"C'mon Mara, you're going to be late. Leia and Han will be here before you know it and you'll be complaining about being rushed."

"Alright Skywalker, don't blow a gasket." Mara gruffly replied. "I'll be ready."

"Right," Luke responded dryly. "I've heard _that_ before."

"Luke," Mara countered. "We have been back on Coruscant for exactly two days. I know there are lots of details to be addressed, and Leia's responsibilities to the New Republic take precedence over our personal plans, but things will get done. I know our wedding is more than just a "wedding". But things will be attended to in the course of time. As I recall, it was you who suggested that we take a few days to ourselves before we formally announce our plans. And wasn't it Han who suggested that we meet for brunch when you told him you had something important to discuss?"

"Well, yes, but ..." Luke replied.

"No buts, Skywalker. Let's get ready."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

For all her bravado, Mara Jade was more than a little nervous about her brunch with Leia and Han. Despite the fact that they were Luke's sister and brother-in-law, to Mara they were legend — part of history. She recalled the time she had been on Coruscant, recovering from ion burns suffered in her escape from Thrawn. She and Lando Calrissian had helped thwart a kidnapping attempt on Leia and her twins. Mara had then told Leia that she intended to kill her brother. Surprisingly, Leia had not reacted in the way Mara had expected. What was it Leia had said to her? _Maybe you really don't want to do this_. Mara smiled to herself. After aiding Luke in his battle with the mad Jedi clone Joruus C'baoth, she had killed "Luuke Skywalker" and rid herself of Palpatine's implanted compulsion.

Mara shook here head. In the intervening years, she and Leia had crossed paths occasionally, as when they had worked together to escape from Thracken Solo's forces. Trapped in the Corellian government building, both Mara and the security forces had discovered that Leia Organa Solo could be quite a fighter when provoked. Using the _Jade's Fire_, they had managed to elude their captors.

Mara reflected on how she and Leia had made a good team. _We were great, as the kids say, we really 'kicked butt', but this — marrying Leia's brother — is a nerf of a different color_. For some reason she could not explain, Mara wondered why she and Leia could work together so well in combat, and now, it felt like she had a herd of tauntauns rampaging through her stomach. _Get a grip, Mara._ _Why were you worried less about Leia's reaction to "I'm going to kill your brother" than about "I'm going to marry your brother"._

It was Han, though who spoke first.

"Okay, Kid ... Out with it! You look like the Wampa that swallowed the tauntaun. Why are you looking so smug? What's going on?"

Luke grinned.

"Quite a few things actually," he said. Then he took Mara's hand, and she nodded, albeit a little reluctantly. "Mara and I have something to tell you."

Luke took a deep breath, and said a little formally, "I asked Mara to marry me ..."

He paused, letting Mara finish their announcement. "... And I said, 'Yes'. We're engaged to be married," she said quietly, as if unsure of their reaction to this information.

Leia was speechless and she looked at Han, whose own face seemed frozen in his trademark, lopsided grin. But then he laughed and the joy was contagious. Leia approached her brother first. Luke was surprised and more than a little concerned to see a few tears streaming from her eyes. He gently brushed away a tear with his fingertip. "Leia. What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just so happy for you! I've been hoping for this day for so long. I've wanted you to find the same kind of joy that I've found with Han. I was beginning to doubt that it would ever happen. I want you to be happy, Luke!" Leia smiled through her tears and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Leia." He gave his twin a long, loving embrace. "I AM happy. Happy, and content, and at peace. Mara and I complement each other perfectly." When he finally released her, he said, " Thank you for caring, Leia. That means a lot to me."

Then Leia turned to Mara.

"Thank you!" she said sincerely. "Thank you for putting the light in my brother's eyes and the smile on his face. His entire life has been filled with pain and losses. He's always had too many responsibilities and duties. He's been lonely too long and has had little joy in his life. I'm very grateful to you for making Luke happy, and I'm pleased that I'll finally have a sister-in-law."

Leia gave her a warm, welcoming hug.

"Then you're not upset?" Mara querried incredulously, as Luke stepped next to her and took her hand in his again. "I mean, I was the Emperor's Hand, and I did try to kill Luke and I ..."

Leia stopped her with a shake of her head. "That's all in the past. You and Luke haven't exactly had the most typical of relationships, and the journey from Myrkr to here hasn't been along the straightest of paths, but the present is all that's important. In truth, I really shouldn't have been all that surprised by your announcement, you know. You two have been dancing around one another for years. It's obvious that you're good for Luke; that you're exactly what he needs. That's all _I_ care about. Welcome to the Skywalker family."

* * *

_Hello old friend._

Karrde came awake with a start.

"Lights" he called out softly. The cabin darkness faded, to be replaced with the glow from the wall tubes. As expected, there was no one there. Karrde shook his head. He was not one to dream, and if he did, he rarely, if ever, recalled his nocturnal adventures. Still, the voice had been familiar. It wasn't his, that he knew. _It sounded like … Car'das_ Karrde thought to himself. But that was impossible. Car'das was light years away, and besides, the voice had not been audible to anyone else, had it? Reaching for the comm unit, Karrde thumbed it on.

"Bridge."

"Dankin here," came the reply.

"Have there been any transmissions received in the last, oh, ten minutes?"

"No," was the immediate response. "Were you expecting something Captain?"

"Uhh, no, at least not now. Thanks, Dankin. Karrde out."

_Did you really expect them to track this, Talon?_

Karrde started violently. It took but a moment to confirm that the comm unit was off. _I am awake. I am not dreaming. The voice is real._

"Jorj?" Karrde whispered, not believing, yet knowing that there could be no other answer.

_Yes _ came the reply and Karrde could not mistake the amusement in the voice.

"How can you do this? You're light years away from us. We're traveling through hyperspace, and we didn't exactly file a flight plan."

_True, but I have some resources at my disposal that others do not._

Suddenly understanding, Karrde nodded to himself. "The Aing-Tii monks?"

_Exactly. But Karrde, this isn't a social call, much as I enjoyed your company some months ago. I have, or should I say, it was suggested to me that I provide you with some rather important information. And I have learned over the years that ah, 'suggestions' such as these are not to be ignored_.

* * *

_So is this clear? Do you realize the importance of this information?_

There was no mistaking the urgency in Car'das' "voice". Karrde paused before replying. _It's a good thing nobody is able to see me now. My crew would surely be convinced I've taken leave of my senses, talking to myself._

"Yes, Car'das, it doesn't take a hyperspace engineer to see _that._ But I don't understand why you, I mean, _they_ are telling me this? I thought they preferred not to get involved in the affairs of the Galaxy. After all, they did sit out the conflict between Palpatine and the Rebels and then the continuing battles between the New Republic and what was left of the Empire. Why choose sides now?"

_They _aren't_ taking sides, Karrde. It is just that they want to be able to remain undisturbed in the Kathol Rift. It should be obvious that allowing those plans to proceed will inevitably affect them. I believe the expression they used was 'a little pain now for a lot of gain later'. And let's face it — you gain considerable credibility with this since you can't, not that you would, reveal the source._

Karrde grimaced, wondering what the cost would be. No matter, it would be worth it. He would just have to make certain that the scales balanced.

"Yes, I have to admit that dealing with this will definitely enhance my reputation as a 'miracle man'. More than that, it will help a certain former Mistryl shadow guard realize that she is a key member of my crew. For that, I thank you more than for myself."

_You're welcome, old friend._

Karrde wondered as the "voice" paused.

_One last thing. I suspect that I will be have to contact you using more conventional means in the future._

Again the voice paused. Years of negotiating had taught Karrde the fine art of listening, and it seemed to him that Card'das' tone was now more wistful and sad than commanding.

_I find it somewhat ironic that after years of hiding from everyone — especially you — that I long for your company more than ever. Talon, know that you are always welcome at my door. Please do not stay away for another twenty years._

* * *

Long after Car'das' voice faded away, Karrde remained where he stood in his cabin, not wanting to break the spell. Slowly, as if awakening from a dream, he became aware of his surroundings. The dim glow of the wall tubes softened the images he carried in his mind. The only sounds were the soft woosh of the air recycler and the muted hum of the hyperdrive engines. _I was not dreaming. It was real. I DID speak with Jorj. _Karrde paused in his ruminations._ Either that or I have to think I've finally lost my mind. And somehow I don't think that's the case._

Karrde thumbed the comm unit.

"Bridge"

"Dankin here, Captain."

"I'm calling a meeting of the _Bureau of Ships and Services_. Please arrange for your relief. Meet me in my cabin in 30 minutes."

There was a pause as Dankin absorbed the meaning hidden in Karrde's statement.

"Beggin' your pardon boss, but isn't it a little early for a meeting? It is only 02:45."

"Some things just can't wait, and this is one of them. Please advise H'sishi and Aves that they are to join us. Also, please call the mess and ask them to send some caf to my cabin. Karrde out."

Karrde thumbed the comm again.

"Shada"

"Yes?"

In spite of the situation, Karrde smiled to himself. "What do you do? Lie awake waiting for me to call you?"

Shada's response was an undignified snort.

"No such luck."

She paused, and when she spoke again, there was no bantering in her voice.

"Karrde, I had the strangest dream. I could'a sworn that Jorj Car'das was talking to me. He told me that he had some critical information regarding Luke and Mara's wedding plans, and that we needed to act or the consequences would be catastrophic. And then he said that only I could do it. But he never said what _it_ was."

As the blood drained from his face, Karrde thanked his lucky stars once again that nobody could see him in his cabin. _This is getting ridiculous. C'mon Talon, get a grip. _It took all of his years of practice to maintain his composure and not let on how shaken he was.

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't a dream. It really was Car'das. He spoke to me, too. And I am equally unclear as to what _it_ is. I've called a meeting in my cabin for 03:15 to deal with the matter. I'll see you then. Karrde out."


	10. The Plot Thickens

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0--0

_Somewhere_ …

"Have you seen the latest reports on the trials?"

"No."

"It seems after all those years of uncertainty and what the holopress is calling 'justice denied', the New Republic is determined to make an example of those responsible. Reparations are being demanded that will bankrupt those clans involved. More than that, the Senate has called for an investigation into how Palpatine was able to suborn the leaders of the clans. And that idiot Fey'lya is leading the call. I suppose he thinks he can save his own skin by disowning the actions of his clan-mates. He claims he knew nothing about their actions, that all events happened while he was still a cub."

"No matter. Fey'lya can play that game for all the good it will do him. Meanwhile, there's no trail that leads to either of us. And that pathetic weakling Orou'cya knows what will happen if he steps out of line."

"Oh, he knows, but that won't stop him from talking. He's too much a coward. Threats may lead to him holding out, but he'll crack. If only that data card had not turned up. How did they ever get it? Someone has to have given it to them. We were assured that there was no way anyone in the New Republic could ever get that information."

"There's no point in wondering how. The fact is, they did get it, and they do have the information. One thing for sure. I promise you that that cursed Jedi will regret the day he brought that _kriffing_ data card back. We were betrayed, and he and that _Imperial_ will pay for their actions!"

For a moment, the two of them sat there in silence, lost in their thoughts. The older of the two, his fur mottled with the tell-tale signs of age, seemed content to let the younger one vent her anger. But when he spoke again, it was with the voice of command, long used to being obeyed.

"Idle threats! Save your breath. There's no way that any one of us could even get near either of them, let alone both at the same time."

Surprisingly, or maybe not, the younger one did not flinch at the rebuke. Instead, her lip curled into the feral grin so common to her race — a grin that contained not a trace of humor. It was the mark of the hunter, and it signaled that the hunted was in range. And the reply showed none of the respect due the elder.

"Are you so feeble that you're ready to rot in prison? Have you forgotten what it was like to feel the wind on your fur as you hunted? Are you ready to give all of this — and here the younger took in all the surroundings — up? And are you so sure that they are _unapproachable_?"

He paused and there was no mistaking the excitement in his voice.

"There is more than one way to gut a taunton, you know."

The retort the older one had begun to issue died unspoken. Instead, a look of cunning replaced the resignation which a moment before had pervaded his features.

"Very well, young one, what do have in mind?"

The younger one remained silent, and he shook his head. Cupping her hands to her ears, her eyes roamed the room, as if searching for a hidden listener. Motioning the elder to approach her, she withdrew a sheet of flimsiplast from a hidden pocket. Without being asked, the elder handed the young one a stylus, with which the younger one inscribed a single word. The elder recoiled in horror.

"Is this possible?"

"All things are possible if you truly believe."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

_Somewhere in space_ …

Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, allowed himself the barest of smiles as he surveyed the command bridge of the Imperial star destroyer _Chimaera_. Despite the comings-and-goings of the leadership of both the New Republic and what was left of the Empire, Captain Ardiff had not tolerated any slack from the crew. The flagship of the fleet had quickly settled back into its efficient routine following the signing of the peace treaty with the New Republic.

Pellaeon considered what seemed to him to be a rather surprising outcome. The reaction to the public announcement had been strangely subdued. While there was none of the euphoria with which the New Republic greeted the treaty, neither was there any backlash from the citizens of what was now known as the Imperial Remnant. Oh, there had been sporadic clashes with the authorities as die-hard supporters of the old regime refused to acknowledge the realities of the day: Palpatine was long dead; Thrawn was not coming back, and the New Republic was not about to disappear, despite the efforts of a certain former Moff and his underlings.

Again Pellaeon allowed himself a private smile, but it was one tinged with the thoughts of what might have been. _If only it really had been Thrawn, then maybe we could have continued the battle. On the other hand, given that it wasn't Thrawn, it's a good thing that Karrde and that Mistryl showed up when they did._ And yet … Colonel Vermel had brought some rather disturbing news a few weeks ago, and it largely a result of his report that the _Chimaera_ had altered course to investigate. _I thought we had identified all the sleeper cells that Thrawn had planted._ Pellaeon grimaced as he corrected himself. _All the cells that we knew about, perhaps._

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Wedge, what in the name of Hoth are you talking about?"

"Luke, I'm telling you, this is serious. I got a message from one of my sources, and it said, and I quote 'Plans are being made … look to the centre …' unquote."

Luke's response was one of exasperation. "Wait a minute. Are you suggesting that the leadership of the New Republic is involved in this … this plot?"

"I don't know. Luke, and besides, who says it's the New Republic? It could be the Empire you know. There are more than a few Imperials ready to blast anyone associated with the peace treaty. And it's not just Imperials. Remember, that treaty didn't just end a war that had been going on for nearly two decades. It put more than a few black marketers and privateers out of business. And those sorts of folks don't take kindly to losing what they saw as the source of unending credits. Plus," and here Wedge paused, "not everyone is overjoyed that you've decided to marry Mara."

Luke rolled his eyes, and grimaced. "Not that again, Wedge."

"Yes Luke, and you'd better get used to that, at least until all the animosity between former Imperials and New Republic citizens caught in the war abates. Old grievances die hard, and it doesn't take a hyperspace engineer to figure out that you and Mara make a tempting target. And, given that Leia has basically bullied you two into a public wedding, well, let's just say that I'd feel a whole lot better if Rogue Squadron was around. Besides, it's only fitting. I mean, you were our first leader and all that."

His stern look faded as Luke considered his former squad-mate's arguments. In spite of his initial reaction, Luke realized that Wedge had a point. In fact, he had a whole bunch of them.

"OK Wedge, whatever makes you happy. I guess I should be grateful that so many people care what happens to us. It's just that I've been looking after others for so long that it's hard to accept that that others would like to do the same for me."

It was Wedge's turn to smile as he recalled days gone by. "Luke, believe me when I say that we're all eager and happy to do this for you." Wedge paused, but there was no mistaking the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he continued. "Besides, Iella would probably kill me if I let anything happen to you or Mara. And Han and Leia would finish the job."

00

The night had long since faded and daylight softly colored the hills of the horizon. But the elder remained alone in the solitude of his home. The image conjured up by the single word of the young one filled him with dread. And yet … what choices were left? To admit complicity in the sabotage of the Caamasi shield generators? To acknowledge that the clan leaders had been subverted by Palpatine? To stand trial and be publicly humiliated like some … some criminal scum? _Unthinkable!_ And yet … what the younger proposed was horrible to contemplate.

Mind you, spending what would undoubtedly be the rest of his life on some prison planet was not something he relished either. It was this dichotomy that haunted his thoughts and left him almost paralyzed with indecision. How could he make such a judgment? On the one hand was certain personal suffering; on the other hand was the potential, but abstract, suffering of unknown billions. _If not for that accursed Jedi and his soon-to-be mate, none of this would be happening. And if they know, the entire leadership of the New Republic knows._

The thought filled him with anger and it was as if a powerful wind had blown all indecisiveness to dust. _The Clans must survive. All else is meaningless. So what if others died to protect the secret? All men die sooner or later. Better sooner if it was for a good cause._

Slowly, the elder rose from where he had been sitting. The stiffness of the night before was all but forgotten, and a new-found vigor filled his steps as he went in search of the young one. _And once the deed is done, Caamas will be but a memory again._

00

"OK, boss, what's up? Why are we here in the middle of the night? And why all the secrecy?"

_Yesss, Chieften, why the call to meet in your cabin?_

Karrde's response was delivered without any of his characteristic flamboyance.

"It's simple, H'sishi. You too, Aves. I received a message from an old friend that I cannot ignore. And the method of transmission was, let's just say, rather unorthodox and totally untraceable."

Dankin looked thoughtful as he spoke up. "So was that why you kept asking me if we had received any comm signals?"

"Yes," Karrde answered.

_But Chieften, I sstill do not underssstand. Why have you called uss and not otherss of the crew? And why now? Could thisss not wait until our normal hour of awakening?_

"The message was particularly pointed in the personnel I was to notify, H'sishi. More than that, it indicated that time is one thing we do not have. If we are to prevent a catastrophe that will plunge the New Republic into Civil War, then we must act now."

"C'mon, Boss," Dankin argued, "aren't you being a bit melodramatic? I agree that things are still a little dicey, what with lingering resentment on the part of some Imperials, not to mention a few zealous NR citizens, but to suggest that a civil war is brewing? Kriff, we just got over that threat when Skywalker brought back a true copy of the Caamas document and identified the Bothan clans responsible for the destruction of Caamas. You can't turn on a holovid without some commentator or another reporting the latest developments in the trials or some 'victim' bringing it up again and again and … uh oh. Let me guess, the Bothans aren't taking this well."

Dankin's voice faded off as Karrde acknowledged the analysis with a nod.

"Exactly."

"I don't get it, Karrde," Shada spoke up for the first time. "Why us? And why me?"

"Why us? Credibility, that's why. By giving us the information he did, my source enables us to get a leg up on the intelligence services of both the Remnant and the New Republic. More than that, it allows us to demonstrate the value of the service to both sides. And as I'm sure you'd agree, score big at the beginning and it gets easier later on."

"OK, I'll buy that," Shada acknowledged, "but Karrde, why me?"

_Yesss, Chieften, why usss?_ H'sishi added.

"To answer that, H'sishi, I'd better give you a bit of background first. It all started about twenty years ago …"


	11. Answers sort of

"Anything Ensign?"

"No sir. Sensors show that this sector is uninhabited."

"Very well, navigator. Continue with search pattern delta 3. Inform me if the sensor sweep turns anything up."

"Yes sir …"

"Yes, Ensign?" There was something in the way that he had said 'yes sir' that suggested to Captain Ardiff there was something left unspoken.

"Captain, I know it is not my place to tell you how to conduct a search, but I — "

"Ensign, if there is one thing that I have learned from Admiral Pellaeon, it is that no one should be afraid to suggest a better way to do something. The Admiral has reminded me on more than one occasion of his tutelage under Grand Admiral Thrawn, and I guess it has rubbed off on me. So speak up boy, what's on your mind?"

The young officer paled visibly at being the focus of Ardiff's attention.

"Well, sir, it is just that search pattern delta 3 will not allow us to perform a sensor sweep with enough precision to detect any life forms on a body smaller than a class-M planet, or one where the population is less than about 10,000 beings."

"Go on, Ensign …"

Gaining confidence, the navigator continued. "Redkin, sir. If we are to find whatever you are searching for, you will need to either modify the sensors or use pattern sigma 2."

" I realize that, Ensign, but sigma 2 will take longer than we have to perform the search. So far, I see no reason to deviate from the Admiral's orders."

"I understand, sir. But you see, sir, right now, we are doing a general sensor sweep. If we knew _what_ we were looking for, we could maintain delta 3 pattern but focus the sensors to seek a precise life-form signature. I took the liberty of researching the _Chimaera's_ sensor array's sensitivity, and providing a pattern match reduces the critical threshold to as few as 100 life forms on a body as small as a moon."

In spite of himself, Ardiff was impressed. This sort of initiative was something rarely seen in the Imperial fleet, although on reflection, Ardiff realized he shouldn't be surprised. Thrawn had taught Pellaeon well, and the Admiral in turn had instilled that same sense of resourcefulness into Ardiff and his senior officers. It only made sense that the junior officers would pick up on it, too. _And the thing of it, Redkin was right,_ Ardiff thought to himself. _Why didn't I think of that?_ The problem was, Pellaeon had informed only a few key senior officers what they really were looking for. Moreover, it was not obvious that he would want the crew to know. The subject of clones was a touchy one. Though the Clone Wars were fifty years in the past, the memory of the destruction caused in the conflict was still fresh to too many people. And Thrawn had used clones in his abortive attempt to defeat the Rebels ten years earlier. Ardiff grimaced at that memory. The _Katana_ fleet had been crewed by clones, and that had turned out to be a colossal failure. And it was just a few months ago that Disra's aide had been revealed as a clone. _No_, Ardiff concluded, _we'll have to take our chances and hope we find them._

"Ensign, I thank you for your suggestion, and I will advise Admiral Pellaeon of your comments. But for now, please continue with the search as programmed."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry sir if I spoke out of turn."

"No, Ensign, you didn't. Just do not confuse initiative with insubordination and you'll be fine."

As the navigator nervously returned to his post, Ardiff turned and headed for the command bridge. He owed the Ensign that much. _And who knows,_ Ardiff considered, _maybe the Admiral would be willing to use the boy's idea_.

* * *

"OK Wedge, we'll see you and Iella tomorrow for lunch."

"Agreed. And Luke, don't discount what I told you. Be careful."

"I will Wedge, I will."

Mara Jade entered the common room of their apartment just as Wedge's image faded from the viewscreen.

"What was that all about, Luke? What did Wedge mean when he said 'be careful'?"

Luke debated whether he should tell Mara about Wedge's warning. Too late he remembered their Force bond, as Mara suddenly turned and faced him.

"Alright, Skywalker, what's going on? Don't try and sweet-talk me. I can tell something's not quite right."

Luke sighed as he considered how best to proceed.

"Wedge thinks there are plans to interfere with the wedding. He's not sure if it is directed at you, or me, or both of us, or even us in the first place. All he knows is that one of his sources said, and he quoted 'Plans are being made … look to the centre …' unquote. Neither of us knows what that means. Do you have any ideas?"

"No. What could he mean by 'look to the centre", Luke? Is it a person, or a place?"

"I just don't know, Mara, and that's what worries me."

* * *

"We eventually traced Car'das to his base in the Exocron system, and when we got there, it turned out that we had brought along a few unexpected guests."

Karrde paused, as a rueful chuckle escaped his control. "I thought I had been so careful, making sure our backtrail was covered; taking steps to keep our route a secret. Little did I know that all the while, Car'das was using us to lure the pirates and slavers who regularly preyed on the system into the open."

Again Karrde paused, and when he spoke again, no one could mistake the bitterness in his voice.

"It was a game to him, a way of masking his ultimate goal, which was their extinction. And his whole scheme would have collapsed like a broken pure sabbac if we had not successfully made it to Exocron."

"I dunno, Boss," Dankin offered. "If these Aing-Tii monks were powerful enough to obliterate the pirates, my guess is that they would not have allowed us to be destroyed until we served our purpose."

_But how could they know, Dankin? No one can ssee the future._

"Actually, H'sishi, that's not quite true," Karrde responded. "I recall Skywalker telling me that the Force sometimes gave him a vision of the future. On one occasion, he saw himself on the Canyonade on Cejansij, and it was his decision to go there that led to him running into Moranda which led to a meeting with me which led to him rescuing Mara from Nirauan. I know it seems hard to accept, but in the years I have known Skywalker, I have come to respect his Jedi abilities and I believe him when he says that the Force presents these images to him. And I do not know if I told you, but Car'das implied that the Aing-Tii monks also have the ability to touch the Force, but in a different way. So who's to say that they _can't_ see the future?"

"This is all very well and good, Karrde," Shada added, but you still haven't answered my question. Why us? And why me?"

"I thought I _had_ answered why _us_, Shada. Despite my reputation for being a source of information not otherwise available, and my success in convincing the Empire and the New Republic to buy into my scheme to make us a neutral third-party intelligence service, neither side really believes I can pull it off. Those opposed to the plan are just waiting for us to fail; to be able to say 'I told you so'; and in doing so, damage the rather fragile bonds the peace treaty has established. If we successfully defuse the crisis before it happens, then both sides will have to acknowledge that maybe it can work. And there is another reason why us, although it is not one that I would cite."

Karrde's voice softened as he looked at Shada.

"Do you recall what you were thinking, Shada, when Mara extended an offer to you to join my crew?"

Shada started at Karrde's words, and feelings of anger and embarrassment raged within her as she struggled not to reveal the turmoil she felt. Despite her best efforts, it was obvious that she had failed.

"That was private, Karrde! Mara had no right to reveal a private conversation. If I had known she was — "

"Mara never said a word, Shada," Karrde replied, trying to soothe her anger. "All she said was that you two had had an open and frank discussion, and that beliefs were revealed; beliefs that neither of you even knew you felt, but they were so deeply ingrained that it would take a conscious effort to alter them."

"That doesn't excuse her, Karrde.," Shada retorted, but the anger had faded from her voice.

"Well, if you must know, I was feeling sorry for myself and …"

Unbidden, Shada found herself back in the observation lounge, as she recalled her encounter with Mara Jade. _And what was I now? An outcast. An exile. No longer a part of the Mistryl, with Emberlene closed to me forever. Everything I did was done in the name of the Mistryl. And what do I have to show for it? A cabin on a smuggler's ship and the pity of a Jedi._ Mara had certainly read her the riot act after that. And what had she said when Mara told her Karrde wanted her to join his crew? _Oh yes. If you can call a smuggler's organization respected._

With a flash of insight, she knew what Karrde was referring to.

"That's it, isn't it, Karrde. Nobody _respects_ us. Were just _smugglers_."

The bitterness of earlier was again present in Karrde's response, but it was muted.

"Yes, Shada, we're just _smugglers_. But our perceived weakness is also our strength. Because we are not part of the 'regular' society, we can go where the usual agents cannot. More than that, we do have a reputation that allows us to gain access to sources that others would not. And perhaps most important, we're _invisible_.. We do not register, so to speak, on most being's mental sensors We're like the maintenance staff at the shipyards. Nobody knows us, but without us, the whole operation comes to a grinding halt. Remember when we had that run-in with General Jutka? Even you didn't recognize my crew in the tapcafe."

_But Chieften, if we are just sssmugglerss, how doess that help uss?_

"Actually, H'sishi, it plays right into our hands. Because people do not want to "see" us, they tend to forget that they have, even if they did. Do you understand what I mean?"

_I think ssso. Becaussse they do not wisssh to associate with uss, they will not notissse uss. They unconssscioussly forget uss._

"Exactly. When Moranda helped Wedge Antilles and Corran Horn on Bothawui, it was she that had to contact them. To them, she was invisible, just another being not worthy of recollection or notice."

Shada's expression changed, as if she had suddenly just thought of something.

"Karrde, where _is_ Moranda right now? Is she still on Botawui?"

"Ahh, let's just say that she is where she can do the most good, given her success in dealing with those Imperial agents, shall we?" The look Karrde gave her suggested that further discussion on this matter would not be wise.

"Look, boss," Aves offered, stifling a yawn, "this has been a really interesting discussion, but it certainly could have waited till we were off shift. You still haven't told us anything that needed us to meet now."

"Sorry Aves, I was just getting to that. I needed to fill you on who and why. Remember I told you that I received a message from an old friend that was completely untraceable? What I haven't told you is that the information came to me from Car'das about an hour ago. He contacted me —"

"And me," Shada interjected.

"When I said untraceable, I meant it. The messages were in our minds, and my guess is that the monks provided the means for Car'das to use the Force to find us. After all, we are still in hyperspace."

Karrde looked at each one in turn.

"You have to understand that basically, all the Aing-Tii monks want is to be left alone. They prefer to remain within their home in the Kathol rift, and it is only rarely that they emerge to ahh, deal with us. Their actions in destroying Rei-Kas and his cohorts were akin to exterminating vermin. It was a moral decision. Their message to me was cryptic, yet I saw at once what they meant. _The power to move planets and stars is a power that you are not yet ready for, and that danger lay in turning tools into weapons._ Our goal now is to prevent an incursion by certain Bothans that if successful, would almost certainly lead to civil war within the new Republic."

* * *

"Wedge, are you ever going to come away from that viewscreen?"

"Yes, Iella, I just have one more message to deal with. You know I need to keep in contact with Rogue Squadron"

"Honestly Honey, I sometimes wonder if you love me as much as you love that squad of yours."

"Now, c'mon, Love, you know that's not true. You're the most important thing in my life."

"Well Wedge Antilles, you'd better show me that that's true."

"Five more minutes Dear, that's all. This is the last message."

As Iella returned to the kitchen of their apartment, Wedge quickly entered the secure codes necessary to bring up the last message. He hated having to deceive his wife, but this message was too important to miss, and it definitely was not from a member of Rogue Squadron. It was a voice-only pulse transmission, slightly distorted from having too many relays in the mix as its sender endeavored to make sure that a backtrace was all but impossible.

"Things are getting a little too tense. The elder has come to some sort of decision and has gone to seek the young one. Whatever he said got the elder's attention. Whatever they're planning, it looks like they'll be putting their scheme into play. Also, too many people are starting to recognize me and that means my effectiveness is at an end. You will need to arrange a trace of their movements on your own. I'll see what I can uncover, though. But if you do not hear from me in 24 hours, you know what to do and who to contact. Oh yes, one last thing. Why would Bothans be interested in CorSec?"


	12. Thinking of you

As he stared at the unchanging panorama of hyperspace, for not the first time, Admiral Gilad Pellaeon wondered if Colonel Vermel had unintentionally sent the _Chimaera _off on a wild mynock chase. For more than three weeks, Captain Ardiff's crew had carefully and meticulously searched an area larger than three Imperial sectors, to no avail. Despite all the efforts of the flagship of the Imperial fleet, they had come up empty. And yet, Vermel was not one prone to errors of this type. Moreover, the data had been analysed and reviewed by military intelligence personnel at Yaga Minor and Pellaeon had even arranged for Ghent to have a look at the transmission to see if it had been faked. After all, that was exactly what Han Solo and Lando Calrissian had done in order to locate Bastion. Ghent had assured the Admiral that the transmission was authentic. Or at least, if not authentic, it wasn't a fake. Pellaeon had come away from the slicer's quarters more confused than when he had entered. Now, as he pondered whether he should curtail or end the search, he replayed the last bit of their conversation over and over in his mind.

_So ... is it real or not?_

_Well, yes, Admiral, it's real all right. That is, it's not a fake. But I can't tell you anything more than that. I mean, I just don't know who sent it or where it came from. It's almost like it just … appeared._

Pellaeon shook his head in frustration. _It's almost like it just … appeared._ For some reason, that phrase resonated in his mind. Not normally given to hunches, Pellaeon recalled Grand Admiral Thrawn's view on such insights — that they were the subconscious mind trying to tell you something that the conscious mind was too untrained to recognize. _So what is my subconscious trying to tell me?_ Pellaeon wondered. _And what is it about the fact that the message just … appeared?_

Suddenly, he knew.

"Karrde!"

"Did you say something, sir?" Captain Ardiff inquired.

"Sorry, Captain, I didn't realize that I had spoken out loud. I was just trying to remember why something Ghent had said sounded so familiar."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure I understand."

Pellaeon motioned for Ardiff to follow him to the secondary bridge. Turning command over to the first officer, Ardiff entered what Pellaeon liked to call "his thinking space."

"You know that I had Ghent check the transmission before we embarked on the search, and he assured me that it was genuine. What you do not know is that he was completely at a loss as to the source or sender. Rather an interesting situation, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you mean, sir?" Ardiff responded.

"Think about it. For more than three weeks, we have been searching for these clones. In that time, we have maintained radio silence so as not to alert anyone to our presence. Add the time it took for us to arrive at the search location, and we have been out of contact with anyone for more than a month."

"Well, yes sir, but I fail to see what the comments of the New Republic crypt chief have to do with the search?"

"Do you remember how it was that Karrde and his Mistryl Shadow Guard brought us the data card that unmasked Flim?"

"Why, yes sir. As I recall, they had been brought to the _Relentless_ by a ship of unknown origin that more or less suddenly appeared out of nowhere."

"Exactly. I think I remarked to Karrde that he 'had scared the stuffing out of my navigator when he suddenly appeared'. Well, that is just about what Ghent said to me about the message — it was as if it just appeared. I'm certain that the beings that brought Karrde to us a year ago are also responsible for us being here now. The question is, why?"

* * *

For once, Wedge Antilles was grateful for the fact that his wife was not around. He had spent the better part of an hour in his apartment's communication center, and he was doing his best to discover whether one could indeed "blister the paint off the walls" with some well-chosen words.

"C'mon, Karrde, where in the name of Hoth are you?" Wedge exclaimed, not really expecting an answer. "I've been trying to find you for two days now."

Wedge mumbled a few more oaths to himself, but despite all his entreaties, the viewscreen remained blank. He was worried. It had been more than 72 hours since he last had a message from her, and 48 hours after she said she would contact him. And Wedge had no illusions as to what that meant. She was either dead or captured. Moreover, Wedge seriously doubted that she would be found in any case. But he had promised to try, and e e he owed her that at least.

_Maybe Mara knows a way to get hold of him,_ Wedge thought to himself. _It hasn't been that long since she left his organization._ Keying for Luke's apartment, Wedge half-expected to get the visitor recording; he was pleasantly surprised when Mara herself answered the call.

"Mara, how you doing? You look great. Are you and Luke just about set for the wedding?"

Mara's response was not what Wedge expected.

"OK, Wedge, spit it out. What do you want? Why the sweet talk?"

"What ever do you mean by that? Can't an old friend of Luke ask about the well-being of his friend's wife-to-be?"

* * *

Mara Jade did her best to maintain a stern look. All the while, her mind was racing as she focused on Wedge's body language. One didn't need Jedi abilities to see that he was worried. The question was, what was Wedge worried about? She considered asking him what was on his mind, but she knew him well enough to know that he would tell her if she didn't push. Instead, turned her concentration back to the viewscreen, where she saw that Wedge's attempt at seriousness was marred by the grin that filled his face. In spite of herself, Mara couldn't help but laugh. _Now I understand why Iella is so crazy about him. When he's not on duty, he's a little boy inside a grown-up's body._

"I'm fine Wedge, and yes, Luke and I are just about ready for the wedding. To tell you the truth, I wish it were over already. The planning has taken on a life of its own. Leia may not have convinced Luke to hold a complete, blow-out, High Alderaanian wedding, but what she has in store can't be very far from it. It seems we can't take two steps outside this door without some holopress reported sticking a vid-cam in my face, or some so-called "journalist" demanding I tell them the "real story" about what it was like to be the Emperor's Hand. I think Luke had the right idea when he said that a simple Jedi ceremony was all he wanted, that we were already one with the Force, and that anything else was simply formality."

Wedge's response was delivered without any of his characteristic whimsy.

"Mara, believe me when I say that whatever Luke wanted would have been enough for any of us. We of Rogue Squadron owe each other our lives so many times over that we've lost count. That sort of experience can't help but change a person. We've lost too many friends over the twenty years of the Rebellion to ignore that. You develop a sense of, I don't know what to call it, intuition maybe, about your comrades. You also gain a sense of obligation. It sounds corny, but loyalty and honor are the most important traits that Rogue Squadron possesses. And friendship, too. Luke was our first leader, our inspiration. More than that, he is our friend. He was there for us, just like he was there for Baron Fel, and that's why we're here for him. He didn't abandon Soontir when everyone else did. You have no idea how often I think about him and wish Isaard had never got her slimy hands on him."

Mara found herself spell-bound by Wedge's statements. She knew that Luke considered him to be one of his oldest and dearest friends, and she recognized that Luke's judgment was well-placed. And Wedge's statement had touched a nerve. When she had joined Karrde's organization after her self-imposed exile following Palpatine's death, she had guarded her privacy and kept apart from the rest of the crew. Karrde had quietly pointed out that she was depriving herself of something special. _Loyalty and honor are the hallmarks of my organization, Mara, _he had quietly told her. _But it can't be bought or ordered, only earned. And once it's earned, it's for life._ She understood fully what Wedge was saying, and she felt a pang of jealousy, for she knew that she would have to earn that respect from Rogue Squadron's members. Oh, it was being offered now because she was marrying Luke, but she knew that that was exactly why it was offered. Not for her sake, but for Luke's.

"Wedge, this is extremely private information, but let's just say that a reliable source has evidence that Isaard did _not_ get her hands on Baron Fel. Please don't ask me any more. I can't say anything else. In fact, I may already have said too much. This is strictly between you and me, understand? Now, before we both get too maudlin, why _did_ you call? If you were looking for Luke, he's out with Han."

For a moment, Wedge did not respond. Mara did not need her Jedi abilities to sense what was going through his mind as he struggled to find the right words. After all those years of thinking Fel was dead, to be told that _maybe_ he wasn't.

When he finally found his voice, Wedge offered Mara a salute and a smile, a smile that quickly disappeared. "Actually, Mara, I was hoping it would be you. I urgently need to get in touch with Talon Karrde. I've been trying to find him for more than two days and I have had no luck at all. It's no exaggeration to say that it's a matter of life or death. I gave my word on this, and I don't intend to let anything happen to her. I was hoping that you'd know how to find him, what with you being his second for all those years."

"Her, Wedge? Who is "her" Wedge? Not Iella I hope?

"No, Iella is fine. She's out shopping for with Mirax. Seems Booster gave her the 'all clear' to see what Coruscant has in the way of fashion these days. He says that Corran wouldn't know a fashion from a cushion, that all CorSec types are dull and boring." Wedge smiled, and Mara knew he was thinking how much this was going to cost Booster.

But his somber mood quickly re-asserted itself.

"Sorry Mara, I'd rather you just let it go at that. Please understand."

"I do Wedge, and I won't pry. But understand this. What I said about my loyalty to Karrde's crew didn't end just because I'm marrying Luke. I spent nearly thirteen years of my life with him, and if this concerns someone in Karrde's organization, then I want to know, Wedge. And that's not a request — that's an order."

"What's an order, Mara?"

Mara spun as Luke spoke up. Her tone was accusatory as she spoke again

"How long have you been there, Luke?"

"I just got home and heard you talking on the comm. I walked into the room as you were telling Wedge that something 'was an order'. By the way, how you doing, Wedge."

"Fine, Luke, uhh, no, not fine, actually downright concerned. I was telling Mara that I need to find Karrde, but he seems to have dropped into hyperspace."

Wedge smacked his forehead as what he had just said sunk in.

"Hyperspace! No wonder I can't reach him. He must be in hyperspace. Why didn't I think of that sooner? I'm such a doofus. Mara, did Karrde ever set up any hyperspace relay systems to enable contact when his ahh, flight plan was unknown?"

It was Luke who interrupted.

"Wedge, maybe we should meet. If this is a security matter, it should not be discussed on an open comm channel, even one as secure as mine."

"OK, Luke. Mind if Corran comes along also? Mirax is out spending Booster's credits, and Corran may be able to bring some ahh, insights to the discussion."

"Sure, Wedge. Why don't we meet at Rogue headquarters in say, one hour?"

"One hour it is Luke. And please ask Mara if she would join us. Wedge out."


	13. Coming together

A/N ... sorry for the long delay ... one of the joys of teaching university classes is the fun that comes with a new course ... I'm ahead of the class now :) so I can get back to this now ... look for 5 chapters over the next week or so.

* * *

As the viewscreen faded, Luke turned to Mara.

"That was interesting. What was it all about?"

Mara looked thoughtful as replied.

"I'm not sure Luke, but either it has to do with a member of Karrde's organization that Wedge can't get hold of or has not been heard from in a pre-set time period. I suspect it may be one of Karrde's second level operatives, the ones who work under cover. Luke, I wonder if this is the source Wedge was referring to when he told us of the message 'look to the center'. You know, I still can't figure out what that means."

* * *

_Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Moranda Savich_. It was somewhat ironic, she thought to herself. When she had helped thwart the Empire's secret plan to foment civil war on Bothawui, she had no inkling that she would find herself a field agent once more, again trying to unearth plots against the New Republic. Only this time, it was Bothans and not Imperial agents who were trying to stir up trouble. She had initially been able to infiltrate the household of the elder, and it did not take her long to discover that it was the young one who really was the danger. At least, she had thought so. Then, three days ago, the elder came to a decision. Moranda was not sure what had been decided, only that bsomething/b had been decided. All she had been able to learn was that it would involve CoreSec, which meant that there was a better than even chance that Corellia was somehow mixed up in whatever they planned. Try as she could, she was unable to come up with the link.

And then she got careless, or else the Bothans got smart. Moranda grimaced as she contemplated the alternatives. Whatever the reality, her usefulness was at an end. What was worse was that she had not been able to get a message out to anyone. _No,_ she corrected,_ what was worse was being on the run on a planet of aliens, where she stood out like a Wookie at an Ewok convention._ The only saving grace was the Bothans' inherent paranoia. They were just as likely to mistrust one of the other clans as they would a human. It was this lack of cooperation between clans that had enabled her to hide for the past two days. But though Moranda was many things, she was no fool, and she could see that the game would soon be played out. _Maybe another two days, three days at the most._ And then she would run out of options. But that was two days in the future, and there was no point in worrying about tomorrow's problems when you had a sack full of troubles today_. Tomorrow will take care of itself,_ she concluded._ In the meantime, I'd better deal with today._

* * *

As Karrde finished his explanation, it seemed to Shada D'ukal that the temperature in his cabin had suddenly plunged 10º. Shivering in spite of the climate control, Shada tried to wrap her mind around what Karrde had told them. _That's impossible, _she thought to herself. _There's no way they could do that. Or was there? The Ang-Tii monks wouldn't have gone to all this trouble to get a warning to us if it wasn't true. And why me? I still don't understand that part. _

Belatedly Shada turned her attention back to Karrde as she realized that he was still speaking.

"Yes, H'sishi, we were not the only ones contacted by the monks. It seems the plotters stumbled across one of Grand Admiral Thrawn's clone sleeper cells, and somehow, they managed to subvert the clones to their goal. The fact that Thrawn has been dead for more than ten years, and that the Empire and the New Republic are at peace seems to have slipped their collective minds. Either that or their Imperial programming really kept them as 'sleepers,' and they are unaware of recent developments. It doesn't really matter which it is. The fact is, the plotters expect to be able to join up with them at the appropriate time."

"But Karrde," Aves inquired, "how did they get the clones to overlook the fact that they are not Imperials?"

"Even more to the point," Shada interrupted, "how did they get them to overlook the fact that they are aliens? You know how xenophobic the Empire was. It seems to me that the last ones in the galaxy the clones would listen to are a bunch of Bothans."

"Ahh, normally you'd be correct, Shada," came Karrde's response. "But in this case, the communication has been through a group of intermediaries who have no love for the New Republic. As far as the clones are concerned, they are dealing with officers of the Empire. Let's face it, not all of the Empire's citizens were willing to concur with Pellaeon's assessment of the situation. It wasn't hard for the plotters to enlist the aid of dissident Imperials. All it took was one skilled impersonator. Don't forget that Moff Disra, Major Tierce and Flim had half the galaxy believing that Grand Admiral Thrawn was back, and we're not talking about a hoax nearly so complex. Just enough to convince conditioned Imperials that they are part of an undercover Empire plot to regain Coruscant."

"So what do we do now, Boss?" Dankin inquired. "Do we head for Corellia?"

"Not right away. For some reason I can't explain, I have this hunch that I need to contact Mara. It's the strangest thing. It's almost as if Car'das planted the suggestion in my subconscious when he was talking with me."

* * *

As far as Wedge Antilles was concerned, an hour was too long. On the other hand, it was not very likely that he would be able to contact Moranda in the next hour. _It'll have to keep for at least that long. Meanwhile, I'd better get Corran and head for Rogue Squadron headquarters._ Opening a comm channel, he keyed in his private frequency. It was but a moment before he had a response.

"General Antilles. Can I help you sir?"

"Yes, Ensign. Please contact Commander Horn and ask him to meet me at HQ in forty-five minutes."

"Sir, Commander Horn is already on site. He reported in a few minutes ago."

"Very well, put me through to him."

"Yes, sir."

There was a brief pause as the comm channel adjusted to Corran's location.

"What's the matter, Corran? Tired of shopping? Or has Mirax already spent your pay?"

Corran Horn grinned as he contemplated an appropriate response. He and Wedge Antilles had the kind of bond that only those who have faced death together and won, possess. Their relationship required no words; they were as close as any two comrades could be. At times, Corran thought that Wedge knew him better than his wife. Mirax Horn had grown up in the company of smugglers. Her father, Booster Terrick, although not in the class of Talon Karrde, had made sure his only daughter had wanted for nothing. He had also taught her the value of independent thought and action, and Corran often felt that the universe was having a laugh at Booster's expense over the fact that his daughter had done just that — acted independently and married him. He, Corran Horn, of Jedi descent, a long-time member of CorSec married to the daughter of one of the galaxy's foremost smugglers. Yet Corran knew that Booster's gruff exterior hid an inordinate amount of pride in, and love for, his daughter and her children — Booster's grandchildren. Not that that ever stopped Booster from giving him a hard time. _What's the matter, CorSec? Can't you find the time to buy my daughter the latest fashions? I have to send her shopping with Iella. _

"Actually, Wedge, I didn't go. Mirax insisted that this was to be a quote ladies day unquote and that unless I wished to serve as their porter for the duration, I need not attend. Besides, I told Booster that since it was his idea, he could carry the bill. You know what? That old pirate is a softee where his daughter is concerned. He grumbled and ranted a bit, but somehow I could tell that it was all bluster. He really loves her. Once he agreed, there was no reason for me to go. So I took Valin to a concert. I have to admit that he is talented, and he's teaching me some of the finer points of music appreciation."

"So why did you come back to Rogue HQ?" Wedge inquired.

"It was the strangest thing, Wedge. Valin was trying to explain the musical basis for the current fad on Corscant, and I had a vision. Well, not exactly a vision, it was more like a trance. It was like I zoned out, and when I came to, so to speak, I had this urge, almost like a command, to get to HQ."

Wedge pondered Corran's comments for a moment.

"Jedi hunch, maybe? Or the Force speaking to you?"

"I'm not sure which it was or even if it was that. I've had the Force 'speak' to me on occasion, and this did not feel like it."

"So what did you do with Valin?"

"He's here with me. Iella and Mirax said they'd come get him when they're done. In the meantime, there's enough to keep him busy. So why are you looking for me?"

"Luke and Mara are to meet with us in about an hour in my office. There's something happening and you and I need to discuss it with them. It's of sufficient importance that I want you to contact the rest of the squad, off the record, and ask them to be ready to muster at a moment's notice."


	14. And yet

"Captain Ardiff."

"Yes, sir?"

Admiral Pellaeon paused a moment before continuing.

"It is obvious that standard search techniques have not been successful, and I have a feeling that we are running out of time. One thing Grand Admiral Thrawn taught me was that, if at first you don't succeed, change your tactics. If the modifications to the sensor array proposed by Ensign Redkin will work, then go ahead. We need to find those clones."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

As she made her way back to her cabin, Shada D'ukal, pondered the life she'd lived the past year. Since Karrde had removed the death mark imposed by the Eleven, she had slowly come to terms with her exile from Emberlene. To her surprise, it had not been a difficult task. Any illusions Shada had had regarding her days as a Mistryl Shadow Guard had been swept away by Jorj Car'das' revelations regarding the true cause of Emberlene's misfortunes. And the Elder's words of scorn — _Tell me again how low a Mistryl can sink_ — had banished any loyalty Shada might have still retained.

What she could not understand was why her break from her former comrades had not been as hard to accept as she had anticipated. The crew had been solicitous of her and she was sure it had been Mara's influence. But that did not explain the continued welcome she got from the crew even after Mara had left. At first, Shada was certain she would be blamed for Mara's departure, but that had been a foolish thought. She quickly realized that Mara had been correct when she called Karrde's organization "not your usual bunch of smugglers." Hard nosed, abrasive and generally prickly, the crew of the _Wilde Karrde_ made Mazzic's seem like a bunch of amateurs. Off duty, they would rather spend their time in the local tapcafs, but when Karrde called, they were the most professional crew she had ever seen.

Determined to prove herself worthy, Shada had found that the crew accorded her the respect she craved, and did so with no strings attached. They valued her for being Shada D'ukal, member of the crew, and not for who she had been or where she came from. It was a refreshing change from the attitude of Mazzic's crew, who saw her sometimes as little better than a glorified floozy, dependent on Mazzic's goodwill for her keep. It was only when the Eleven had chosen to sacrifice Mazzic did she realize how important honor had become to her.

And yet …

She knew there was more to it than that. It all came down to Karrde. The more she thought about him, the more confused she became. He frustrated her with his calm demeanor and unflappable attitude. He never seemed to worry. His sardonic wit got under her skin at times, but she quickly realized that humor was Karrde's way of dealing with strong emotions. His self-deprecating manner masked a steely determination to succeed.

And yet …

That still wasn't it. Back in her cabin, Shada allowed herself a quiet sigh. This was a night for truths. He may have fooled the rest of his crew, but Shada's training quickly saw through his subterfuge. Karrde was worried. And a worried Karrde was not something she had come to expect.

And yet …

That still wasn't it. In her heart of hearts, when no one was around, Shada would quickly admit that she was fascinated by Karrde. The cynic in her had told Shada that Karrde would seek some sort of payback for his actions on the _Relentless_, but true to his reputation, he did not. Inexplicably, Shada had been insulted by his respectful conduct. Even after she had willingly joined his crew, he maintained a professional, albeit caring relationship with her. But over the past few months, Shada had detected a subtle change. H_e cares for me,_ she thought to herself. And the distressing part was that Shada found herself caring for Karrde. _Well, of course you'd care for him,_ she told herself. _He's the captain. He cares about the entire crew, and it's only natural to care back when someone cares about you._

And yet …

* * *

Luke paused as Mara turned away from the viewscreen.

"Is that exactly what she said, Mara? 'Look to the center'? Try to remember. It might be important."

"Luke," Mara replied in exasperation, "I don't even know if it's a 'she'. I assume so based on Wedge's conversation, but I have no way of knowing."

"I understand, but I think there's a hidden meaning in the message. I know this may sound crazy, but when you spoke the phrase just now, I thought I heard an echo, like a crystal resonating slightly out of phase. I think it may be because those aren't the precise words."

Mara frowned as she considered Luke's request. What _had_ the message said? Try as she could, the exact words eluded her.

"This is crazy, Luke. It's like a memory that fades as soon as you try to catch it, like an image seen by your mind's eye. I just can't seem to recall the exact words. And that's not like me. It's almost as if someone planted a compulsion that makes me forget as soon as I try to concentrate. To do that requires considerable skills in the Force."

Neither spoke as they pondered the import of Mara's words. It was Luke who broke the silence.

"No, Mara, I don't think so. I would have felt something like that through our bond. But maybe the Force can help us. Try and relax and let me see if I can pull the message from your mind. Besides, it will be nice for a change not to hear you yell 'stay out of my mind, Skywalker'. Mara ... why are you blushing?"

Luke's teasing tone succeeded in lightening the sombre mood affecting Mara.

"Listen, Farmboy, there are some parts of my mind that are off-limits to you, no matter how important it is to learn the truth. And don't let me catch you messing with them, understand?"

Luke grinned. The message may have been stern, but the mood behind it was playful, and suffused with love and gratitude.

"Don't worry Mara, this won't hurt a bit."

Luke's comments were met with a rather sharp retort.

_Right. Why is it that somehow I'm not feeling reassured?_

Luke said nothing, but he sent a wave of support through their Force-bond.

"C'mon Mara. Just relax and concentrate on where you were and what you were doing when the message was received."

"I'm trying to, Luke, but I just can't seem to clear my mind enough for us to be able to 'hear' the original message."

"Maybe if you meditated?"

"I dunno, Luke. Maybe we should wait till we get together with Corran and Wedge. After all, what's another hour or so?"


	15. Dear lady

_Cops! The place is crawling with cops._

Moranda Savich surveyed the main entrance to the Drev'starn comcenter. With a sigh she sat at a small table at the open-air tapcafe near the center. Automatically ordering her usual, she reviewed the events of the past 48 hours.

It seemed like such a good idea, getting herself hired as a maid for Eri Grai'yka Her contacts in the Bothan "underground" seemed to think that Clan Ayka, generally and Eri specifically, were deeply involved in "something." The kids of the underground ... hardly more than a student protest group, really, rich kids seeing the real world for the first time, rebelling against the standards of their families while never wondering where the credits came from that sent them to university and kept them living in style. Ah, the myopia of youth. They had no idea WHAT Madame Grai'yka had her sticky little paws in, but Moranda was pretty sure that the Caamas document figured in there somehow.

Several independent bits of intel had pointed to Eri Grai'yka and Earr Clan Elder Jairf Rayl'arr, and Ceok Orou'cya of the Combined Bothan Clans as having a hand in the most recent cover-up. That was one reason Talon Karrde had asked her to stay on Bothawui. Added to this was the message that Moranda had gotten directly from one of the students, Jen Vri'rayl, granddaughter of Elder Rayl'arr. Jen had overheard her grandfather talking with Eri and figured the younger Bothan was dragging her beloved Grandfather into something underpawed. The shadowy leader of the student movement, known only as The Changeling, had confided to Moranda that it was just as likely to be the other way around, and had then arranged for Jen to need some tutoring in Old Republic history, one of Moranda's specialties.

Moranda maneuvered her way into the Rayl'arr household with her usual efficiency. What she heard both confused and shocked her. Eri Grai'yka was definitely the more dangerous of the two. In need of close observation — hence the maid disguise — Moranda had spent two weeks working herself into the Grai'yka household staff. Two weeks of frustration, and then, the day before yesterday, the pay off.

She'd overhead enough to feel she had to make contact with NR Intelligence, and she hoped Wedge Antilles had passed her message to the appropriate people. She SHOULD have left it at that, should have left House Grai'yka, should have left uncovering more dirt to the NR pros. She should have left before Eri figured out that she wasn't just a down-on-her-luck human willing to be a servant for a demanding, snooty Bothan Society maven. But no, she had to find out more, do it all herself.

_Stang! You'd think at my age, I'd have learned a thing or two._ But on the other hand, waiting around HAD provided a bit more information. Just yesterday Eri had entertained a group of Bothan "dignitaries." The head of Bothawui's Securities and Exchange Commission, the CEO of BothaTech and his head R&D "man" (Eri had made the Verpine sit at the far end of the room ... Moranda made sure to serve her first), the heads of the Sei'Lar and Orou'dan families (and what were either their bodyguards or accountants ... perhaps both), AND Councillor Borsk Fey'lya. Was he there as a representative of his family or as a member of the New Republic Senate? In any case, it seemed large amounts of credits and electronics were changing hands. The listening device she'd left under the serving tray failed before she'd been able to figure it out ... was it just the failure of her overworked equipment, or had the device been found?

As she pondered the events of the last few days, she hardly noticed when the waitbeing brought her drink ... or so she hoped he (it?) thought. She needed to be inconspicuous. In a place like this, a lonely old human in despair would fade into the background. Maybe the cops would get tired of waiting for someone who didn't show up, maybe they'd let down their guard ... yeah, right.

Now what would she do.

_Can't go back to House Grai'yka, can't go back to my old digs, better not contact the underground kids, I'll just get them compromised. Got to be something, Think old girl, think_. She looked over the comcenter entrance again. _Well, as I live and breath, that's Senator Fey'lya, chatting with the uniformed guards. Sith! Now he's headed this way. Well, make the best of it._

* * *

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, Hero of the Rebellion and founding Commander of Rogue Squadron, rarely took advantage of his status within the Alliance. Unlike the politicians who craved public adulation, Luke shunned the spotlight. While he was honest enough to acknowledge his place in history, he had no desire to become a living monument. On the other hand, he was certain the Jedi Code did not forbid taking advantage of opportunities when necessary. And this was one such time. Normally, the traffic in and around the Palace was such that it would have taken hours to reach Rogue HQ. But a politely-worded request to Coruscant's traffic control had worked wonders, and the officer Luke had contacted was good as her word — he and Mara were able to reach Rogue Headquarters in near record time. And Luke was conscious of a growing sense of unease. It was almost as if the Force was saying _Hurry up … you don't have much time left._

He glanced at Mara. She had not said a word the whole time. He knew how frustrated she was. She had tried meditating, but her agitation was too great to allow her to succeed. As they were escorted to Wedge's office, she quickened her stride and Luke found that he almost had to run to keep with her. Ignoring protocol (and their escort), Mara burst in on Wedge and Corran.

"OK, Wedge … what's going on? Why do you need to get hold of Karrde? Who is this 'she' you referred to?"

"Nice to see you too, Mara," Corran dryly answered, as he struggled to keep a grin off his face at the sight of Wedge's discomfort.

Mara glared at Corran, then Wedge. Abruptly, she laughed. "I guess I deserved that, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did, but I have to tell you that we are all a bit concerned," Corran continued. "Maybe the best thing is to start at the beginning. Wedge?"

Wedge Antilles looked around as he gathered his thoughts. He rose and made sure the office door was closed and then, quite deliberately, he activated the "secure" system. Luke's raised eyebrows spoke volumes and Corran seemed equally surprised.

"There. This room is secure and I can speak openly. I know what you're thinking, that at last I've succumbed and become paranoid. That's not it all. But until I can sort out the meaning of her messages, I intend to make sure no one, and I mean no one, can eavesdrop on us."

Mara regarded Wedge with a look of both understanding and frustration.

"Wedge, if you don't put a name to 'her', I'm going to forget I'm marrying Luke and go back to being the Emperor's Hand and rip the information out of your mind! What in Hoth is going on?"

"Calm down, Mara. 'Her' is Moranda Savich. I'm sure you remember her. You know her too, Luke, remember? You met her when you went to Canyonade."

Mara's anger evaporated like morning mist on Tatooine, to be replaced with a sense of foreboding. Luke seemed lost in thought as he recalled his trip to Canyonade. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

"Right, Wedge. She was the ahh, old lady I ran into and thought was in danger. Only she wasn't an old lady and she wasn't in danger — she had a Noghri with her. They worked for Karrde."

"Exactly. That's why I have been trying to get hold of Karrde."

"Wait a minute, Wedge," Mara interjected. "That does NOT explain why you're trying to contact Karrde. All you've confirmed is that she worked for him."

Wedge looked at Corran, as if for support.

"Mara, what you don't know is that Corran and I ran into her on Bothawui. Remember when Moff Disra used the Vengeance scheme to foment a revolt there, using the Caamas issue as the catalyst? Remember when Han and Leia were caught in a riot at the Combined Clans Building? When someone tried to sabotage one of Bothawui's shield generators? Well, Moranda was there as one of Karrde's deep cover operatives."

* * *

Moranda rose from her seat and approached the Bothan.

"Oh Sir?" in her most wheeling voice. "Can you help me? I'm new here and I need to send a message to my nephew on Coruscant and the guards won't let me into the comcenter since my ID cards and creditchips were stolen by a couple hoodlums and …"

"Stow it, old woman. If you ARE an old woman? Quite a cleaver disguise if you really aren't old." The Bothan steered her back to her seat and took the chair opposite. "Who are you, really?" he demanded. "I know you're not one of Cracken's people, I know all them. You're not NR Intelligence in any of its forms: military, civilian or industrial. Not with CorSec (or what's left of it) ... I know all them."

He paused to order something from the patient waitbeing before continuing. "So that leaves Talon Karrde, or Lando Calrissian … unless … unless you're working DIRECTLY for Organa-Solo and her crowd. Yes! That's it, isn't it? You're working for the Princess through someone like Bel Iblis, that fits with your Corellian background. Oh don't look so surprised dear lady, I can tell you're Corellian, even if that mynoc-brained Eri Grai'yka can't tell a Wookie from a Calamari, much less one human sub-type from another."

Moranda smiled to herself. _He was SO wrong_ … and then she frowned at herself for letting her surprise at Karrde's name show. But maybe she could work this to her advantage … unless of course, HE was the Bothan who had tipped off Grai'yka. Borsk was still talking, she'd better listen with both ears.

"I take it than that someone close to Grai'yka … ah … what is the term … 'thumbed you'?"

"Fingered," Moranda replied distractedly. _What was this "politician" up to?_

"Humans. Who can understand them? So someone close to Eri Grai'yka 'fingered' you to her? I'm positive she didn't figure it out herself. She had you classed as a servant, therefore invisible and nonexistent. You did a good job, by the way, playing the part. Only a Bothan with as much exposure to humans as I've suffered would have noticed anything amiss. So I'd say the 'snatcher' … ?"

"Snitch" supplied Moranda.

"Snitch … such a colorful language, your Basic. So the snitch probably wasn't a Bothan, or any of the various non-human types she keeps around for her amusement. Were there any other humans in her employ?"

"None that I noticed. As much as she liked showing a human in a humble position to her society friends, I got the feeling she didn't like having humans around in large numbers, two being too large a number for her humaniphobia. I don't think she even had human guests at her society functions or business meetings. That's why you were, and still are, my prime suspect for the 'snitch who fingered me'. Oh, and just for your information, Senator, file it away with your other bits of 'human lore'. That 'colorful' language is only used in holovids, never by real people."

"Ah, then you DID recognize me the other evening. I thought I saw a flicker of surprise. But let me assure you, dear lady, that I would not have told Eri that she was employing a New Republic spy as a housemaid. If I had, SHE might have taken credit for unmasking you and your plans. I intend to do that myself. I won't hand a gem like that to Clan Ayka"

"I take it you don't much like Ms. Grai'yka and her family?"

"I'd sooner be Darth Vader's valet than give them any honor"

"Yet you know that Clan Ayka was deeply involved in the Caamas business. I'd have thought you would have turned them in, to their enduring shame and your greater glory."

'That's different, and what makes you think I have evidence of their involvement?"

_Ah,_ thought Moranda, _he DOES have something on them, I was really only guessing._

She swallowed her smirk and said in all seriousness "You so much as said so when you were having 'high tea with her ladyship,' but that's beside the point, how is it different?"

She permitted a small triumphant smile to cross her face as Borsk, obviously disconcerted, tried, she thought, to figure out what he had said that tipped her off. _Absolutely nothing, Borsky, dear._ she thought to herself. _I already knew she and Elder Jairf were among the guilty parties when I overheard them plotting to destroy the Document and anyone in their way._

"SO," she pressed, "how is it different? Think of the shame that Clan Ayka would suffer if you went public."

"My dear woman, you know so little of Bothans."

_If he 'my dears' me one more time, I'll … temper old girl, temper. You've got to play this beastly like a large fish._

"Please, enlighten me."

"If the Grai'yka family is humbled purely within Bothawai politics, it stays among ourselves. But if Clan Ayka is brought before a Senate tribunal, humbled and shamed before aliens, particularly humans, it brings shame on ALL Bothans. Our internecine feuds are strictly among ourselves, We must present a united front to outsiders."

"I see, so you'll do most anything to make the Aykas look bad, as long as it stays on Bothawui. Interesting, I know Corellians like that. But that doesn't feed the bantha."

* * *

With a sigh, she rose from the table, drained the last of the blue liquid from her glass and looked again at the numerous security personnel milling around the comm center. She looked back at Borsk. 

"If YOU didn't alert her security, who did?"

"A good question, dear lady. Are ALL these security beings here for you? I see several I recognize from Grai'yka's personal staff, but this seems a grand turn out for one little renegade housemaid/ NR spy. Eri must know something about you that I don't."

Fey'lya stood, tossed enough credit chips to pay for both drinks on the table and backed away a bit, edging nearer to the main walkway.

"Are any of these people Bothan Regulars or Special Ops?" Moranda asked as she rounded the table to come up beside him.

"No, no special operations people, just the regular plainclothes security that is always at major comm centers."

"Those would be the two over by the fountain in the neo-Republic outfits, the male reading the newspaper on the bench to the left of that statue, and the female street lady type chatting with the Duros at the bar … he's just a civilian." She smiled at Borsk's wide eyed, fur-rippling amazement. "I'm right, yes?"

He nodded.

"I don't think," she continued, "that any of THEM are looking for me specifically, I think they are just on alert because of the large number of private security persons here. They aren't in on the 'Moranda Hunt'. Yes," she said to his raised fur. "My name is Moranda. As much as I wish you didn't know it, I'd rather you used that than call me 'dear lady' one more time."

His brief smile was one of comradely, but temporary, friendship. A "we're all in the same escape pod" look.

"I think," he began while edging toward the walkway, "dear la ... Moranda, we should leave here immediately. I know a small cantina where we can continue this conversation."


	16. Old friends NOT!

Mara Jade absorbed Wedge's statement without reaction.

"So ... what has that got to do with the price of spice on Coruscant? It still doesn't explain why you needed to reach Karrde."

Corran took up the narrative.

"When we arrived at Drev'starn, we ran into a little ahh, trouble. Moranda was able to help us resolve our ahh, problem. She explained who she was and how Karrde had sent her there to keep an eye out for this Vengeance group. Remember, back then, nobody knew it was all a scheme of Moff Disra's. For all we knew, there really was an organized group ready to take advantage of the unrest caused by the faked Caamas Document. At the time, all that was known was that _some_ Bothans had been involved in the sabotage of Caamas' shield generators. We didn't know which ones. Then, when we were recalled by Bel Iblis, Moranda continued to work undercover." Corran paused for a moment. "Although she was unable to prevent Navett and his cohorts from sabotaging the capital city's shield generators, she was key to minimizing the confusion. Instead of attributing the attack to this Vengeance group, and needlessly directing efforts to capture a non-existent enemy, we were able to sort out the facts from the nonsense and focus on the restoration of the planetary shields. In the months since calm returned to Bothawui, she's kept in touch with us."

* * *

"Senator? How far is this cantina of yours?"

"Not far, about five blocks ... is that too far for you to walk?"

If there was one thing Moranda didn't trust, it was a solicitous Bothan, but she swallowed her sharp retort; instead, she told Fey'lya what was really bothering her.

"It's not that, Senator. It's just that we're being followed. I count five, maybe six beings shadowing us."

"That many? I only spotted four. There's Eri Grai'yka's head of security — he's the tall Bothan with the fake limp trying to be a street beggar (he uses that disguise too often, it's only effective the first 10 or 20 times one sees it), and one of his operatives — that female 'window shopping'. Then there's a Duros, he followed me from my office to the comcenter ... I think he works for the Sei'Lar family. The fourth shadow is that young Bothan with the armload of textbooks, doing a poor imitation of a college student ... he seems to be following us. Where do you see one or two others?"

"Grai'yka's people I spotted at the comcenter, the Duros I saw you come in with. The college student really is a student. A friend, he thinks he's being a help, keeping an eye on me should I get in trouble. I'll have to find some way to warn him off. I didn't count him in my five or six. As for the others, there's a Twi'lek that was leaning on the wall of the comcenter, he followed us out. There's a Sullustan who looks very out of place, I'm not sure she's following US, she might be shadowing the Duros. And there's a seedy-looking human just ahead of us who's doing a wonderful job of 'trailing' us from ahead ... I admire her technique. That's six, not counting the kid."

"Ah, I was worried for a minute there that we WERE being followed by more than the ones I spotted. The Sullustan IS following the Duros, she works for the Orou'dan family. The Twi'lek is with Bothan Security, he's probably following the rest of them. The human is one of my bodyguards."

Moranda almost stopped in her tracks. "A human body guard? You? Well! I ..." she paused in mid thought. "There's another Bothan picked up the trail ... over there, just relieved the female operative. Looks like he has a snooper mike. He'll be in range in about two seconds. Follow my lead."

Moranda dropped a step or so behind Fey'lya and let a look of obvious disappointment settle on her face.

"But Mr. Fey'lya," she began in that wheedling tone of voice she hated so much, but had proved so handy in the past. "Don't turn down my offer without hearing all the reasons for hiring me."

"I told you, Madam," Fey'lya replied in the harsh, business-like tone she'd heard him use on the news vids of Senate hearings. "I have no need of more household help"

"But sir, think of the prestige of having a human servant, there are so few of us on Bothawui."

"Well there IS that," he softened his tone just a bit, curiosity creeping in. "Madam Eri Grai'yka has a human servant. Are YOU a better servant than the one SHE has?"

"Ah sir, you are in luck, I AM the servant she has ... rather, she had."

Moranda and Borsk continued in this manner, potential employer to possible employee until they reached the small cantina where the Senator was welcomed as a favored patron. They were shown to a private room in the back of the establishment. The proprietor made quite a show of sweeping the room with surveillance detecting equipment, but both Moranda and Borsk did their own sweeps.

Fey'lya smiled "Clear, as I expected. This establishment has been in my family for generations, I trust most of the employees."

Moranda laughed lightly. "The room WILL be clear, Senator, when YOU turn off YOUR recorder."

"Hurmph ... I ... er ... I ... well, I guess I COULD turn it off." He reached in his pocket and withdrew a state-of-the-art bugging device that he turned off as he sat it on the table.

"The OTHER one too, Senator? Oh well, if it makes you feel better, you can keep THAT one turned on, it's only recording, not sending a signal back to your office like that one on the table was. Those things are easy to trace and tap into, you know."

She surreptitiously checked that her own snooper was set to record only.

"So," the Bothan began, "Let's get down to business. What does the Princess want with an agent on Bothawui, and why are you going to need help leaving my planet?"

* * *

There was a light knock on the door of the cantina backroom where Moranda and Fey'lya were meeting. Moranda touched the tiny holdout blaster tucked in her ankle-high boot.

"Are you expecting someone, Senator?" she asked quietly.

"Probably just a serving droid, the proprietor generally sends a decanter of Bothawui's finest. But just in case, would you be so kind as to have that blaster ready as I key the door open."

It was indeed a serving droid with drinks. Moranda quickly ran her scanner over the droid, not looking for anything in particular, just being on the safe side.

Fey'lya dismissed the droid as he poured the drinks, and looked pointedly at Moranda's scanner.

"As a member of the Senate's Intelligence Funding Committee, I find myself wondering who has paid for your equipment. The Princess' private funds I hope and not her security allowance as Chief of State."

"Lets just say we get this stuff wholesale." Moranda hoped Borsk would not realise that this particular bit of equipment was so technologically advanced that only a top-notch smuggling organization such as Karrde's could afford it.

"Wholesale? Ah yes, I suppose you got it from some smuggler the likes of Booster Terrik or his daughter Mirax Horn. I know how you Corellians stick together."

"Yep, we's tighter'n a bunch o' Bothans."

The humor was lost on Fey'lya. Moranda guessed that he saw no similarities between the Bothan devotion to Clan and Family and the natural camaraderie of Corellians. Sometimes she needed to remind herself that Bothans were a totally different species, not just furry humans.

In the ensuing silence, both picked up their glasses and both sputtered at the same time.

_LUM?!?_

"Stang! This stuff is awful," said Moranda as she drained her glass "Pour me another, let's see if it get better with age."

_Actually,_ she thought, _this is the best lum I've had on this planet, I'll have a hard time just sipping the next glass while I hope old FurFace isn't used to lum and it loosens his tongue a bit._

Borsk rather daintily drank from his glass. "Well it's not my usual or even a good neo-Alderaanian brandy, but not undrinkable. It seems my bartender sized you up properly. Lum would be the drink of choice for a down-and-out human, yes?"

Moranda nodded. Silence again for a space of 10 heartbeats. Borsk and Moranda both sipped slowly at their drinks. The Bothan broke the silence.

"Well, Moranda, are you ready to tell me what Organa-Solo is up to and why are you're so anxious to leave Bothawui?"

* * *

"Before I tell you anything, I need to know how Eri Grai'yka figured out I was not what I seemed. Are you sure she didn't figure it out herself? That dumb society dame is just an act, you know. She's really very bright."

"Bright, yes. In most things. But she has a blind spot as far as non-Bothans are concerned, humans in particular. No, I'm sure she didn't figure you out on her own."

"Some of her guests, then?"

Fey'lya response was to the point.

"Who visited her?"

"Well, there is that same bunch that were there the day you were. They were all there a few days earlier. At least the principals were. The Verpine wasn't and the bodyguards were different. They were there, along with the elder and someone from the Combined Bothan Clans, Ceok Orou'cya I think.

"Jairf Rayl'arr."

"Right. He was there most of the day, having arrived unexpectedly for breakfast. Upset the entire household, especially the kitchen. 'Madame' wanted some Bothan delicacy. She sent me into town to fetch it. Why she'd send a human to pick out properly ripe kejee fruit and a good wine is beyond me."

"Why indeed. Perhaps she wanted you out of the house for a while?"

"My thought exactly. That's why I bugged the parlor before I left. That was two days ago."

For a few minutes, there was silence as the two unlikely allies contemplated the situation. Moranda sipped her lum, eying Fey'lya and wondering how she was going to get out of the mess she was in. Fey'lya's fur rippled — a sign that he was agitated — but he seemed unaware of this fact. Or maybe he didn't care. Maybe the lum had affected him more than he'd realized. One thing was certain. Fey'lya was not just being polite. He was worried about something — something she'd said. The years had given Moranda the ability to read body language to a degree not possessed by many, and even though Fey'lya was not human, he was showing human signs of distress.

The silence was broken as Moranda seemed to remember something.

"Senator, do many Bothans speak Bothawuin among themselves?"

"Yes, especially an elder like Jairf Rayl'Arr. Many consider languages like Basic beneath them, suitable only for merchants, tradesmen, diplomats and others of low station. Personally, I enjoy using Basic, it's so full of picturesque phrases like 'snitch' and 'shadow' and 'bug.' I especially like that last one. I assume you mean a listening device and not an insect, House Grai'yka seems to have enough of those, Eri had to call in an exterminator the other day."

It took all of Moranda's training not to react. Fey'lya was rambling. The lum definitely was working. But she also felt a stab of recognition, perhaps a premonition, which flitted away when Borsk switched subjects.

"Hmm … there's no one in that group that should have noticed your potential as a spy. None of the bodyguards that day were human, where they?" He sipped his lum thoughtfully then continued. "Were there any humans in the outside staff? Gardener, chauffeur, that sort? I thought I saw a couple humans spraying something in the gaa'ch beds when I was there yesterday."

Yes, Borsk WAS rambling, thinking out loud as a human might do. A rare thing for a Bothan. Perhaps Fey'lya had, as she'd heard Ceok Orou'cya say, spent too much time among humans and had lost his essential 'Bothanness.'

Fey'lya paused to sip again, then continued.

"Though they may have been any number of species. I think all Grai'yka's servants are Bothanoid who, in coveralls, might seem human from a distance. Wait a minute ... now that I think about it, it might have been one of the exterminators, I'm pretty sure their boss was human, I saw him talking to Eri as I arrived. Odd though, he was at the front entrance, she doesn't even like politicians at the front entrance ..."

Borsk continued rambling, but Moranda hardly noticed. Two bytes of data had captured her attention. Exterminators and a human boss.

_It couldn't be._

* * *

Wedge picked up the story.

"About six weeks ago, I got a message from her saying that Karrde has asked her to return to Bothawui. He'd picked up a hint of some scheme being hatched by one of the Bothan clans. Seems they weren't too happy with the "justice" being meted out to the ancestors suborned by Palpatine. Turns out that one of the Bothan traits is long life. A surprisingly large percentage of those responsible are still alive. The revelations have disgraced many an elder, and there is a backlash building on Bothawui over the supposed "unfairness" of New Republic demands that the clans involved compensate the Caamasi for their losses. They argue that the Imperial Remnant has not had to face reparations for the Empire's destruction of Alderaan, nor has the New Republic faced any consequences of Kyp's use of the Sun Crusher to destroy Carida. They want to know why only Bothawui is being punished. Too many Bothans are seeing anti-alien bias in these tribunals. I guess it sort of goes hand-in-hand with the Bothans' inherent paranoia."

Wedge paused for a moment. Mara sensed that he blamed himself for Moranda's predicament. Mara knew that that was an unreasonable attitude, but it was one she recognized all too well. Karrde was the same. No matter that he was not the one in the field. He felt it personally. And any loss was his loss. _Comes with the territory, Mara,_ he had told her. _It's easy to move the pieces on the game board, but it is not a game. These are people, not game pieces, and when I guess wrong or something goes amiss, these are people who get hurt or die. My people. Not someone else's._

"Anyway, we agreed that she would go undercover. I was her contact. That way, a backtrace would not hit NRI. We communicated regularly. She's the one that sent me the message I gave you a week or so ago, Luke."

* * *

"Navett!"

"A Corellian swear word?" inquired Fey'lya.

"It is now," said Moranda, as she rummaged in her voluminous carryall for a stylus. The flimsiplast serviette under her glass would do for a drawing surface. She hastily sketched a well-remembered face and showed it to the Bothan.

"Did the human look like this?"

"Perhaps, half the man's face was swathed in bacta-bandages, the kind used long-term ... for burns and such. His hands, too. Let me see." Borsk took the drawing and covered part of it with his hand. "Yes, that's him. I wouldn't swear to it in a court of law, but I'm fairly sure. Friend of yours?" he asked as he handed the picture back.

"Imp saboteur." her voice was low and dangerous, as she downed her nearly full glass of lum.

"Imperial? Here, on Bothawui?"

"'Fraid so, Borsk, old friend. Pour us a bit more lum there while I think about this. Shavit! That may explain a lot."

"The question is," Fey'lya said as he filled Moranda's glass and topped his own, "is he spying on Grai'yka or in league with her."

"Or both?" Moranda said.


	17. Bothans revealed

Borsk Fey'lya took a long drink of Lum.

"Both collaborating and spying on a leading Bothan. How very Imperial. Have you any evidence of cooperation? The spying goes without saying."

"I don't know," said Moranda, back to slowly sipping her drink.

"What about the uuuh, what did you call it? Oh yes, the 'bug' you left in the parlor? Any evidence there?"

"Well, whatever they were saying, I can't make it out. I would expect that Eri and Jairf would speak Bothan among themselves, especially if there were non-Bothan servants around."

Fey'lya nodded.

"Trouble is, they weren't speaking Bothan. I understand Drev'starnian Bothan and enough of most of the other Bothan dialects to get the gist of a conversation. Don't know what this was. It had the cadence of Dordolumite Bothan and several words sounded like Tvocyaish Bothan. But the only words I understood were a handful of basic words like clone or perhaps clown and CorSec."

"Dord and Tvoc?" Borsk's fur wavered with expectation, "I don't suppose you could quote some of what you heard to me?"

"I can do better than that. I can playback the actual recording."

She dug around in the carryall again. The recording device was in a side pocket where it belonged, but she'd didn't want Fey'lya to see it. It was a custom device, might as well have had "Property of Talon Karrde" stamped on it. The longer the Bothan thought she worked for the Princess and Garm Bel Iblis, the happier all would be. She slid the data card from the special device and grabbed a standard issue reader that was common stock at most discount electronics shops. She handed both to the Bothan. His fur was settled into what Moranda recognized as a neutral position as the recorded voices of Eri Grai'yka and Jairf Rayl'arr began in an upper class Bothan dialect that Moranda had no trouble understanding.

" _Good day Mistress Grai_ "

Borsk's fur quivered what would have been a suppressed chuckle in a human. Moranda knew that Rayl'arr's use of "Grai" without the clan based honorific of 'yka' was the Elder's way of letting Eri know that he considered her well beneath him, a youngling not worthy of a clan name. Like calling a full-grown Wookiee by his cub-name.

_Borsk found that funny? Bothans, who can figure them?_

Fey'lya quickly smoothed his fur, and only someone with Moranda's gift of reading nuances would have caught it.

" _And to you, Earr_ "

"That's one point for her!" Borsk's fur was positively laughing now.

"You didn't catch that one, did you?" he said with a note of triumph. "She IS quite young, compared to him and many a doting grandfather type COULD have called her 'Mistress Grai' and meant it as a term of endearment, not that he did and she knew it, but, there is NO mistaking the insult in calling HIM by JUST his clan name. It implies that the _individual_ is of no importance at all and only because he is of his clan has he any status at all! Ho Ho!"

That bit of Bothan humor was lost on Moranda, and she guessed it evened the score for his non-reaction to the 'bunch o' Bothans' bit.

The recorded voices continued.

" _Enough of this bantering, we have serious business to attend to, Madame. Have you contacted your "friend" about supplying those ..._ "

" _Jairf! Gr'ar d'se gharrth. Hafesh Bothawuon, je'haf!_ "

" _Eri, Ch'tahi keethn Bothan, vo makily_ "

" _Ge'hav! Keccsi amkily zomm_ "

"Can you replay that, Moranda? And perhaps slow it down?"

"On this piece of junk?"

"Here, use my datapad, it should be able to playback a simple vro file, and I can slow this down and translate."

"You know this language?"

"I haven't heard it spoken since I was a youngling. It's called 'B'wuidreva.' I expected it would be after you mentioned Dord and Tvoc. A very ancient language … in the distant past, it was the common tongue of scholars, diplomats and clerics. Contact with the Republic and the all-pervasive use of Basic among intellectuals lead to its demise. When I was a lad, it was only used in religious services. The only ones who learned to speak it were those destined for the priesthood and the intellectually curious."

His head fur creased in a frown as he continued, " I should be able to understand better."

Borsk fiddled with his data pad and replayed the recording, his fur rippling with concentration as he listened again.

"Ah, there's the problem. They are speaking different versions of the language. Rayl'arr I understand perfectly, he sounds like an old school master of mine. He's using the 'modern temple' version. When my father was a cub, schoolmasters, priests, monks and such were as fluent in B'wuidreva as they were in their clan tongues. The language rolls off Rayl'arr's tongue as easily as his usual High Bothan. Now Grai'yka is using the classical pronunciation. How linguists know how Bothans dead for millennia pronounced their V's and F's is beyond me, but Grai'yka's pronunciation is what is taught now as 'more proper' than what I learned. I will have a hard time understanding her. Now let's slow her down a bit more."

* * *

Borsk Fey'lya played back the beginning of the dialog in Bothawui's ancient tongue, listening intently, fur alternately rigid and quavering. 

"Well, what are they saying," inquired Moranda impatiently.

"Shush, dear lad … er, Moranda, I can't talk and listen at the same time."

_Humph, I can ... patience, old girl, he's just a male ...and a Bothan and a politician at that, how much can you expect out of him anyway. _

Moranda's mental bantering served a purpose. As usual when she let her mind free wheel, her deeper thoughts often coalesced. What many thought of as her wonderful intuition was really just setting her brain free to think beneath the surface, while keeping the surface occupied. As she silently ran through a litany of Fey'lya's failings, her deeper mind saw his positive attributes. He genuinely did put the well-being of the Bothan people above all else; that his actions also served his own enrichment was a not-so-surprising coincidence.

A bark of a laugh interrupted her musings.

"What's so funny?"

"Actually it's more sad than funny, two of the oldest Bothan clans jabbing at each other. They have formed an uneasy alliance, these two — an alliance that threatens to break into Clan warfare at any moment. As a member of Clan Alya, it should give me great pleasure to see them tearing at each other so, yet as a Bothan, it saddens me greatly."

Moranda quietly sipped more lum as she waited for him to continue.

"What caused me to laugh was this." He played back an incomprehensible bit.

" Jairf! Gr'ar wyd'se gharrthwyfp. Hafphesh Bothawuon, je'haf!" "

" _Cos'ghta, vv'ge, Eri, Ch'tahi keethn Bothan? Dia lo'vo makily,Kes'y von meho aleeni? Nayhov, je Bothan ze vernic._ "

"He has just called her paranoid, even for a Bothan."

"Really?" Moranda replied dryly. "What did she say to evoke that sort of response?"

"Well first she said 'Don't speak Bothan, you fool. Some one could hear' and he replied, 'Who is here to hear? Even for a Bothan, you are paranoid' and then she …"

Fey'lya stopped abruptly. "This translation method will not work, will it? He said, she said … It takes far too long to get to the heart of the matter."

Shaking his head in a very human gesture, he picked up his glass, smoothed his fur and took a long drink. He settled his fur in what Moranda knew was a contemplative position for a small space of time, then the telltale ripple of decision. He took another, bigger, sip of lum and continued.

"I don't suppose you have a datapad compatible keyboard and portable printer in that bag of tricks of yours?" he asked, indicating Moranda's carryall.

Now it was Moranda's turn to pause. The keyboard was no problem. In addition to her usual "Karrde special" expanding multi-function keyboard, she had a small fold-up keyboard that was standard Corellian electronics-shack stock. But the printer was a different matter. The only one she had with her was a state of the art, high-speed multi-paper, omni-power number that Karrde had picked up in the Corporate Sector. That, she'd have trouble passing off as NR spyware. She handed over the keyboard without a word, still pondering what to say about a printer.

"Ah good, I'm used to this type of keyboard." Borsk said, taking the device from Moranda. "In my younger days in the diplomatic corps, one of my primary duties was transcribing oral documents. I've kept those skills sharp over the years. Very useful at times."

He plugged the keyboard into his datapad. "I'll just translate and transcribe at the same time, and we'll have a written copy here in my datapad. Lacking a printer, you'll have to wait to read it until I am done and we can download the files on a secure computer and print out a copy for you."

Something in the smoothness of Borsk's easy acceptance of her not pulling the printer out of her bag made Moranda suspect that he guessed she did in fact have a printer; he was casting out some tempting bait. Was it worth letting him get a look at Karrde's little beauty in exchange for an immediate look at the transcript? If she didn't produce the printer, HE would know all that Eri Grai'yka and Jairf Rayl'arr plotted before she had even an inkling of it. Looking at it that way, she had no choice.

And she probably couldn't keep up the Bel Iblis charade forever.

She rummaged in the carryall again with great gusto.

"Now just hold on there, Senator, don't get your mane in a knot. I've got a printer in here … somewhere. Hope the old dear still works, and that I've got the right paper for it. Ah, here's the paper, and a power adaptor.' She handed these items to Fey'lya, "It should be able to draw power from your datapad." _Sith, this gem could draw power from the clear blue skies of Corellia if I asked it to._ Moranda hoped that by speaking disparagingly of the device, he wouldn't look too closely at it. She rummaged some more and brought forth the printer with a flourish. "Here it is, hope it works."

Fey'lya hooked the printer to the pad with hardly a glance. Moranda breathed a tiny silent sigh of relief. At least for the moment he was more concerned with documenting Moranda's eavesdropping than investigating her hardware. She rewound the file to its beginning. As Eri began speaking B'wuidreva, Borsk began keying in the words, translating into Basic. The printer began spitting out its 6 cm wide flimsiplast strip, with Eri Grai'yka's damning words neatly printed for Moranda to see.

* * *

A/N ... ok ... next few chapters will be much longer .. there are fewer natural breaks in the text ... also, I need to figure out how to get the board to post an angle bracket ... you know, the character that comes with shift-comma ... I can't get it here ... the board treat it as html code and stops. So if anyone know, please help :)  



	18. Aboard the Chimaera

A/N --- sorry to be so late in updating this puppy. The last 6 weeks have been rather hectic for me ... real life, sometimes it gets in the way of fun. However, not all is gloom ... 3 weeks ago, my daughter gave birth to her first child, and now we have a beautiful grand-daughter to love ... Isabella Grace.

* * *

To some, the panorama of hyperspace was an unnerving sight. The unrelenting starlines seemed to go on forever, daring the unwary to try to escape. To others, hyperspace represented the ultimate solitude, a realm where contact with or by someone in normal space was exceedingly difficult. You were on your own should your engines fail and you couldn't make the jump back to normal space. _I wonder how many ships have been lost here, unable to return?_ Shaking his head as if to dislodge such negative thoughts, Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet sourly considered the _Chimaera's_ failure to locate the clones Colonel Vermel had insisted "were here ... somewhere." The excitement he had felt when he had determined that the message had come from Karrde's unknown alien associates had quickly disippated in the face of continued lack of success. A part of him wanted to terminate the mission and return to Bastion; at the same time, there was this nagging feeling that the clones were "just around the next star system."

Pellaeon wondered what Grand Admiral Thrawn would make of his musings. Despite the years, Pellaeon still found himself in awe of Thrawn. The intervening decade had not dimmed his admiration for his mentor; if nothing else, he had come to appreciate the insights gained from Thrawn even more. Pellaeon still used the auxiliary bridge as a command station, but it no longer resembled a museum. How Thrawn could discern so much about his foes from their art was something Pellaeon never could understand. _Perhaps it was trait of the Chiss,_ he thought to himself. Again he shook his head, as if to dispel gloomy feelings. _No matter, that was then, and this is now._ Once again he turned to the viewport, and the sight of the starlines endlessly converging on a moving center. How long he stared at the ever-changing panorama he did not know. But suddenly, _he knew._

"That's it," Pellaeon exclaimed to the empty room. "I understand the message."

He quickly crossed the room to the com unit.

"Captain Ardiff."

"Yes, sir?" came the reply. Pellaeon heard the unspoken question in his subordinate's voice.

"Please ask Colonel Vermel to join me in the auxiliary bridge. Also, that young ensign, what was his name, ah yes, Redkin, and yourself."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Pellaeon waited patiently for his officers to join him. The excitement was back. The answer was so obvious once you knew, and he marveled at how cleverly Karrde's associates had arranged for him to reach his conclusion. Unbidden, his gaze returned to the viewport. He heard the door open and he sensed the officer who had entered suddenly stop and freeze at attention. _I wonder if I was as nervous the first time I was invited into Captain Niriz's flag room?_

"At ease, Ensign. Please, seat yourself while we await Colonel Vermel and Captain Ardiff."

"Ye ... ye … yes, sir," was the response and Pellaeon heard Redkin move to the table in the recessed part of the bridge. Smiling inwardly at the discomfort of his officer, Pellaeon considered what this would do to his reputation. _He didn't even turn around. He knew it was me. That was amazing._

The door slid open again, and this time Pellaeon turned to greet his senior officers.

"Gentlemen, be seated."

Ardiff and Vermel seated themselves and Pellaeon took his place at the head of the table. Meanwhile, Redkin did his best to disappear into his seat. He was at a loss as to why he was here, and he could only expect the worst.

"Admiral," Ardiff began, "may I ask why we are here?"

"Yes, Admiral," Vermel added. "I, too, would like to know what the purpose of this meeting is? And who is this ensign? I do not believe we have met yet."

If at all possible, Redkin sunk even deeper into his seat.

"Of course, excuse me, this is Ensign Redkin. He was the one who came up with the plan to modify the sensor array in our search."

"And were his modifications successful?"

"No."

Redkin attempted to turn invisible. He knew what was coming. _That will teach me to open my big mouth. I'll never last as a trooper. I'm doomed._

"No?" Vermel was puzzled. The Admiral did not seem all that bothered by the failure of the plan.

"Begging your pardon, Admiral, but shouldn't we be devising another scheme, then, if Redkin's failed?"

"Yes, Admiral," Ardiff added, "If we are to succeed, we need to revise our strategy."

"But gentlemen, that is exactly the point. Redkin's strategy _should_ have worked. In fact, it _had_ to work. The fact that it didn't should have made us realize that something is amiss. Consider the whole set of circumstances. Colonel Vermel receives this message alerting us to a clone sleeper cell of Grand Admiral Thrawn's. Ghent assures us it is genuine. We head out and maintain com silence for the past few weeks while we search. We are unsuccessful. Then Redkin here comes up with a plan to modify the sensors such that if the clones _were_ out there, we would have detected them. And did we? No. It was not because our search efforts were faulty. It was because they never were there in the first place! This has all been part of an elaborate charade to keep us out of contact with both the Remnant and the New Republic. We have been out here near Ord Mantell, when where we really should be is Corellia."

Ardiff was the first to find his voice.

"Corellia, sir? Why Corellia? What is there that leads you to that conclusion?"

Pellaeon paused as he formulated his response. It had seemed so obvious a few moments ago. Why did he seem uncertain now?

"You'll just have to trust me on that, Captain. In the meantime, I would like you to arrange for Ensign, I mean Lieutenant Redkin to monitor the sensors as we approach Corellia. Dismissed."

Redkin could not believe his ears. He wasn't about to be reduced to a trooper. He was being promoted.

"Thank you sir, thank you" was all he could say.

"You earned that, Lieutenant. Initiative is the one thing that I value almost as much as I do loyalty."

* * *

"Approaching Corellia, sir. Do you want us to come out of hyperspace as soon as we are within range?"

Captain Ardiff looked expectedly at Pellaeon. To Ardiff's trained eye, there was a sense of excitement in the Admiral's stance that had been lacking for sometime. _He's enjoying this,_ Ardiff suddenly realized. _This is what it must have been like when he was captain to Grand Admiral Thrawn and they were hunting the Rebels._

Pellaeon's response was measured.

"No, Captain, I think we had better stay where we are until we can establish that it would be appropriate to exit hyperspace. I know how we would react if a New Republic Mon Calamari battle cruiser suddenly materialized over Muunilist. I am certain that the local garrison would be similarly put out by the appearance of an Imperial Star Destroyer over Corellia. We may be at peace with the New Republic, but there are still too many who are not prepared to accept the cessation of the war with the ahh, Rebels. They would seize upon any excuse to revive the conflict. And I do not intend to provide them that excuse."

"Very well, sir."

* * *

For the next few hours, the bridge crew busied themselves with the minutiae of establishing the _Chimaera's_ approach to Corellia once they came out of hyperspace. Captain Ardiff had them plan for any number of different exit points and encounters with New Republic forces. Admiral Pellaeon remained on the bridge, watching the actions of the crew with satisfaction. _They do the flagship proud,_ he thought.

Suddenly, the bridge echoed to a coded message. It was as if a hyperspanner had been thrown into the middle of an alluvial damper. And yet there was no panic. The months of training paid off. Pellaeon strode to the edge of the bridge pit and looked directly at the com officer, who looked somewhat perplexed.

"Can you determine where the message is coming from?"

"Yes, sir, that's not the problem. It is just that I don't recognize the code being used. I'm letting the computer scan the message for a match. It _sounds_ like an Imperial code, but not one I'm familiar with. I recognized a few words, though, and "Chimaera" is one of them. It is almost as if the code is a variant of — one moment, sir. Here we go … that's impossible."

"What's impossible?"

"Admiral, that code is one that was used by Grand Admiral Thrawn more than eleven years ago. It has not been part of Imperial communications for more than a decade. More than that, this code was a very special one — it was Grand Admiral Thrawn's private code. How could it be used now? As far as I know, that code is not maintained in any computers aside from those of the _Chimaera's_. The only way a sender could know the code would be to breach our systems, and I assure you, sir, that our systems are secure. I give you my word on that."

"Rest easy, Lieutenant. I doubt that our systems have been compromised. And there is another way the code could have been accessed. It might have been given to the sender. In any case, that is not the issue. What does the message say?"

"The crypt section should have that for us momentarily Admiral, now that we know what code to use. Here we are …"

_Attention, Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera. This is Lieutenant Hivinsvok commanding the Gyndine A34Z Tie wing. We request permission to dock and refuel. Please respond._

* * *

The bridge of an Imperial star Destroyer is normally a busy place. Crew coming and going. Commands exchanged. Messages received and dispatched. Strategy planned and executed. But to Captain Ardiff, it seemed as if the occupants of the _Chimaera's_ bridge had been frozen in place by some mysterious force. Not a word had been spoken since the crypt section had broadcast the message. Despite the shock he felt at the words coming from the bridge speakers, Ardiff found himself surreptitiously stealing a glance at Admiral Pellaeon. Ramrod stiff, the Admiral seemed unaffected. _It's almost as if he was expecting something like this,_ Ardiff mused. _But that's impossible. How could he know? Then again, how did he know to alter our mission to come to Corellia?_ Again Ardiff glanced at his superior. He wondered who would be the first to speak. _Who will break the spell?_ Ardiff pondered, _for surely it was a spell we are under._

Ardiff's unspoken question was answered a heartbeat later.

"Captain Ardiff."

"Sir"

"If you were Hivinsvok and you contacted the _Chimaera_, who would you expect to respond?"

"The duty officer, sir?"

"Is that a question or a response, Captain?"

Ardiff frowned at the rebuke implicit in Pellaeon's question.

"An answer, sir. My apologies."

"None required, Captain. The fact is, under normal circumstances, you would be correct. But these are not normal circumstances, are they?"

"I'm not certain what you mean, Admiral."

"Consider. Hivinsvok has contacted us by means of a private code of Grand Admiral Thrawn's. More importantly, that code has not been used since Thrawn's death at Billbringi. It is my opinion that we need to respond in kind. In fact, until we can establish otherwise, we need to assume that _these_ are the clones we were looking for, and presume that they believe that Grand Admiral Thrawn is still alive. Please make a ship-wide announcement that radio silence is to be maintained and no communications are to be answered by anyone except me until further notice."

"Yes, sir."

Raising his voice so that the entire bridge was able to hear him, he made what he was certain would be considered a rather unusual announcement.

"Gentlemen, as far as Lieutenant Hvinsvok and his crew are concerned, I, and not Captain Ardiff, am captain of the _Chimaera_. Any communications are to be referenced in that manner. Do I make myself clear? Are there any questions?"

Pellaeon paused to study the bridge crew. By and large, the crew's response was a series of puzzled glances. But they were not the bridge crew of the Imperial Fleet's flagship for nothing, and it was just another directive to be obeyed. The Admiral turned to the com officer.

"Lieutenant, please open a channel to Hivinsvok."

"Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant Hivinsvok, this is Captain Pellaeon of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. I'm curious. How did you manage to find us in hyperspace?"

"Captain Pellaeon? I'm sorry, but my orders are to answer to no one but Grand Admiral Thrawn. Sir."

* * *

If Ardiff thought the _Chimaera's_ bridge had been under a spell before, he was doubly certain it was again as Hivinsvok's words faded from the speakers. The only sound was the deep-throated _thrumm_ of the hyperdrive engines. Nobody moved. The crew remained riveted at their stations, like statues rather than living beings. Even Admiral Pellaeon seemed rooted to the deck. And then Ardiff noticed his superior's eyes. They burned with a fire that would put a turbolaser to shame.

"I believe I asked you a question, Lieutenant. I expect an answer."

Again, the response was a respectful denial.

"Lieutenant, do you know who I am?"

"Yes sir. You are the captain of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. You are second in command to Grand Admiral Thrawn. I understand, sir, and I must stress that I mean no disrespect. But my orders are clear sir, and I mean to follow my orders. Sir."

Pelleaon paused for a moment, and there was no mistaking the iron in his voice when he spoke again.

"Lieutenant, at the moment, Grand Admiral Thrawn is not available. Now, I asked you a question, and I expect an answer. How did you manage to find us in hyperspace? And before you answer, remember who you are and who I am."

For a moment, the bridge speakers were filled with static. Presumably the channel had been left open as Hivinsvok considered his response. Throughout the exchange, the bridge crew had remained motionless, and even as they waited for the next message, they remained transfixed by what they were hearing. Pellaeon broke the silence.

"I'm waiting Lieutenant, and my patience is not endless."

The anguish in Hivinsvok's response was obvious.

"Sir, I … ahhh … I …"

Pellaeon's reply was softer.

"Lieutenant, perhaps I can offer a solution to your dilemma. You agree that I am Captain Pellaeon, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you also agree that I am captain of the _Chimaera_ and Grand Admiral Thrawn's second in command, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And perhaps most critical, you are communicating with us in a code that was given to you by the Grand Admiral, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then, would it not stand to reason that if we are in agreement that I am who I say I am, and we are who we say we are, that you can safely answer my question?"

This time, the response was not as automatic. The reluctance was obvious.

"Yes, sir. But if I may ask sir, where is the Grand Admiral? I was assured that he would be here, and that he was the one to whom I should report. He and no one else."

Once again, the iron was back in Pellaeon's voice.

"Lieutenant, despite your orders, you are talking to a superior officer. Perhaps you might wish to reconsider your approach. And I am still waiting for an answer to my question. How did you manage to find us in hyperspace?"

"Sir, I am prepared to accept your authority, but even with a secure channel, I will not answer that question over the com. May I be allowed to dock with the _Chimaera_?"

Pellaeon glanced at Ardiff. The reply was almost instantaneous.

"Docking bay 2, aft side. I'll arrange to clear all personnel."

Pellaeon nodded in acknowledgment. Ardiff moved to his station and quietly gave the necessary orders.

"Lieutenant. You are cleared for docking bay 2, aft side. I am sending you the coordinates now. And Lieutenant, make sure your weapons are cold and your shields are down. If we detect any signs of activity, or if there is the slightest hint of treachery, I will not hesitate to have you destroyed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I will meet you when you arrive. Pellaeon out."

The Admiral turned to the com. officer and indicated that the channel was to be closed.

"Done, sir."

"Captain Ardiff, have a security team meet our reluctant Lieutenant in docking bay 2. Ensure that all other crew evacuate that docking bay. I want no one there except the security team when he arrives. And Redkin, keep a sensor lock on him. At the slightest indication of treachery, destroy him. Now, if you will join me, Captain, we have a Tie fighter pilot to meet."

* * *

As he and Admiral Pellaeon left the bridge of the _Chimaera_, it occurred to Captain Ardiff, and not for the first time, how much like his mentor the Admiral had become. The leaps of behavior that seemed to defy logic or reason; the certainty that he was correct; the unflappable demeanor; all these traits were characteristics reputed to have been the hallmark of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Ardiff had been Pellaeon's second for more than four years now, and it never ceased to amaze him how lucky the Empire had been to have someone like Pellaeon as Supreme Commander. Ardiff shuddered to think what might have become of the Imperial Remnant if Daala or Isaard had been the ones making the decisions. _The Empire has been at war for just about as long as I have been in the service,_ he thought to himself. _First with the Rebels while Palpatine was alive, and then with the New Republic after the Emperor's death._ While he was honest enough to admit to himself that the tenuous peace with the New Republic was hard to bear at times, with its implicit admission that the Empire had "lost" the war, Ardiff was also realistic enough to recognize that a few more years of battle would have resulted in the total collapse of the Remnant, and the utter destruction of all that he had pledged to defend. _No, the Admiral was correct to sue for peace when he did. At last we can turn our efforts to recovery and not war. And who knows,_ Ardiff concluded, _we may yet return to glory._ Suddenly, Ardiff was startled out of his reverie.

"Credit for your thoughts, Captain?" The tone was light and bantering, and there was just the hint of a smile on the Admiral's lips.

Ardiff paused and considered whether he should tell the Admiral what he had been thinking. Pellaeon resolved that for him.

"I suppose you're wondering how I knew to come to Corellia and why I agreed to meet with Hivinsvok."

Ardiff nodded. Doing his utmost to keep a straight face, he replied as formally as he could.

"Yes, sir. The thoughts have crossed my mind. If you don't mind me saying so, I was beginning to wonder if Grand Admiral Thrawn had come back and was inhabiting your body. I half expected your eyes to be glowing red when you were dealing with Hivinsvok. Sir."

Pellaeon's reaction was not quite what Ardiff had anticipated. The Admiral burst out laughing!

"That was an, ahh, _interesting_ way of putting it, Captain." The amusement was obvious in Pellaeon's voice. "Unfortunately, such is not the case. Grand Admiral Thrawn is dead, Flim notwithstanding." Ardiff detected a note of wistfulness that soon vanished. The fact is I have had some help in our quest from a rather unusual source. You may recall that I attributed the message that Colonel Vermel decoded — a message I might add that led us on a merry chase for three weeks — to Karrde's unknown alien acquaintances. It was from these same sources that I deduced we needed to come to Corellia. To be honest, I am not certain what is going on, but I assure you, Lieutenant Hivinsvok will fill us in on that."

* * *

Ardiff carefully scanned docking bay 2 as he exited the turbolift, leaving Pellaeon in its shadows. Over the Admiral's objections, he had insisted that Pellaeon remain out of sight. _Your safety is my responsibility, Admiral, and I insist that you allow me to enter the landing bay to make certain that it is safe for you to meet with Hivinsvok._ Reluctantly, Pellaeon had agreed. It took Ardiff but a moment to establish that the security team had carried out its orders. The landing bay was deserted except for the lone Tie resting dead center of the bay, surrounded by the security team. A rather agitated pilot stood to one side. His displeasure was obvious even as he came to attention.

"All clear, Admiral."

"Thank you, Captain. Now if I may ask a favor of you. Please give me your rank insignia. Remember, as far as Hivinsvok is concerned, I am _Captain_ Pellaeon. And make sure the security does not give us away."

"Of course, Admiral."

"That goes for you too, Captain. I am _Captain_ Pellaeon, not Admiral."

Ardiff carefully removed his rank insignia and handed it to Pellaeon. Pocketing his, the Admiral affixed the captain's rank bar to his uniform. "I will address you as Major, Captain."

Exiting the turbolift, the Admiral approached Hivinsvok, with Ardiff following closely, on guard for the least hint of duplicity on the pilot's part. As they made their way to the center of the landing bay, Ardiff found himself frowning as he studied Hivinsvok's appearance. _He looks somewhat familiar. But that's impossible. I know I have never seem him before, but he reminds me of someone I know or know of._ Ardiff turned to Pellaeon to voice his observation, and he saw the Admiral likewise frowning. Suddenly, a look of comprehension replaced the frown.

"At ease, Lieutenant. I am Captain Pellaeon. Welcome aboard the _Chimaera_."

Hivinsvok relaxed somewhat at the Admiral's words, but he still maintained a wary stance.

"Thank you Captain. May I ask why the security team, and why the unusual orders regarding my approach?"

"Well, Lieutenant, the fact is you still have not answered my question. How did you manage to locate us in hyperspace? And do not tell me that your orders are to communicate only with Grand Admiral Thrawn. He is not here at the moment. But I am, and I expect an answer. NOW!"

Hivinsvok fliched at the last demand from the Admiral. Even Ardiff found himself momentarily taken aback by the commanding tone of the Admiral. Hivinsvok nervously surveyed the docking bay, as if evaluating his options. After a moment, his shoulders slumped in resignation as he reluctantly began his story.

* * *

Pellaeon listened as Hivinsvok described how he and his squadron had been living on Gyndine in an isolated community. They had kept a low profile and generally isolated themselves from other settlers. Approximately twenty days ago, they had received a coded message which ordered them to reactivate their hidden fighters and to report to no one but Grand Admiral Thrawn. The message bore Thrawn's encryption and used the private code he had devised.

Ardiff interrupted the pilot's explanation.

"So did you ever actually see or hear the Admiral? Or were all your messages in code?"

Hivinsvok's reply was almost embarrassed.

"No sir, now that I think about it. All communication came in code."

Again Ardiff interrupted.

"Wouldn't it have made sense to seek independent confirmation of the message?"

Hivinsvok's response was indignant.

"No, sir. The code was unbreakable and known only to Grand Admiral Thrawn and those aboard the _Chimaera_." The pilot paused, as if he had just realized something. "Funny thing now that you bring it up. It seems to me that I have always known that code, but I cannot recall when I first learned it."

Ardiff glanced at Pellaeon, as if seeking permission to continue the questioning. But the Admiral seemed lost in thought. Ardiff continued his interrogation.

"Lieutenant, just how long have you and your squadron been on Gyndine?"

The response was immediate.

"Six months, sir."

"And just how many of you are there in the squadron?"

"Twelve of us, sir."

Before Ardiff could pose another question, the Admiral resumed the questioning. It took all of Ardiff's training to not start at the question.

"Lieutenant, when did you graduate from the Academy on Carida?"

"About two years ago, sir." The note of pride in Hivinsvok's voice was evident. "I was third in my class of one hundred, sir. I was given command of the squadron and we were ordered to Gyndine with instructions to locate an isolated community and hide ourselves there, so to speak, awaiting orders from Grand Admiral Thrawn."

"You were told to await orders from the Grand Admiral? Didn't that strike you as odd? No disrespect to your skills, but why would a Grand Admiral take interest in you or your Tie squadron?"

"Sir, it was not my place to question these orders. They came from a senior officer — "

Ardiff interrupted Hivinsvok.

"Did that officer have a name, Lieutenant?"

"Why, yes sir. It was a Major … uhh … Major … hmm, I just can't seem to remember his name."

"Could you describe this Major, Lieutenant," Pellaeon softly asked.

"Well, sir, I only saw him the one time, and I don't really have a good recollection of his appearance. He was of medium build, maybe late 30s. The one thing I do remember were the bandages."

"Bandages?"

"Yes sir, bandages. You know, the kind they use to treat burns. They were bacta bandages. He had them on his arm and face. I figured he had been injured in an attack by the Rebels."

Pellaeon glanced at Ardiff and a look of understanding passed between them.

"Lieutenant," Pellaeon asked, "Do you acknowledge that I am Gilad Pellaeon?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now that we have the preliminaries out of the way, please explain how you were able to locate the _Chimaera_ in hyperspace. And why were you so reluctant to provide that answer over the com channel?"

"Sir, I was given those coordinates in a message that came from the _Chimaera_. The reason I wasn't prepared to explain on the com how I received them was because I thought my transmissions had been intercepted by the Rebels. After all, why would the ship that gave me the coordinates ask how I got them?"

Pellaeon nodded absently, as if the pilot's response confirmed what he knew all along.

"Tell me something, Lieutenant. Just how loyal are you to the Empire?"

"Sir! What kind of a question is that? All I have ever dreamt about was being an officer in the Imperial Navy. I don't understand why you would ask such a question?"

"Lieutenant, perhaps you'll understand after I bring you up to date on some ahh, developments that have transpired since you … since you … hmm, how can I put this?" Turning to Ardiff, he motioned for the three of them to head for the turbolift. "Perhaps it would be easier if I showed you." Entering the turbolift, Pellaeon removed the rank insignia and handed it back to Ardiff. Drawing his from his pocket, the Admiral replaced Ardiff's captain's bars with his own indicia as Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet. A ghost of a smile played over Pellaeon's lips as he observed Hivinsvok's reaction. It wasn't until the lift opened onto the _Chimaera's_ bridge that Pellaeon broke the silence.

"No, Lieutenant, you have not been the victim of some ahh, Rebel plot. As you can see, you _are_ on the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. But circumstances are not as you believe them. I am _Admiral_ Pellaeon now, and I am the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet. Grand Admiral Thrawn is dead. More than that, while you may have been on Gyndine for the past six months, I am afraid you did not graduate two years ago from Carida. Tell me, what year is this?"

"It's the 22nd year of the reign of Emperor Palpatine."

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. It is not. The Emperor has been dead for more than sixteen years, Thrawn for eleven and Carida was destroyed six years ago. Furthermore, the war with the ahh, Rebels is over. The Empire is at peace with the New Republic."

Hivinsvok stared at the Admiral, an incredulous look upon his face. As Pellaeon continued his update, the pilot grew more and more agitated.

"I don't believe you! This is all some Rebel plot. You're lying."

"In some ways, Lieutenant, I wish I was. But I am telling you the truth. Come here. I'll show you."

Pellaeon and the pilot made their way to the com station.

"Show Lieutenant Hivinsvok the message we received from him and our response. And, Hivinsvok, note the code being used."

The pilot carefully inspected the com log. Pellaeon watched as a gamut of emotion played across the Imperial officer's face. When he finally turned to the Admiral, his face was a mixture of dread and anticipation.

"Admiral, I don't know what to say. But I have to accept this. There is no other explanation. And if what you say is true, and it has to be, that means that I'm a … a — "

"Yes. You're a clone. Tell me Hivinsvok, have you ever heard of Baron Soontir Fel?"


	19. To Coruscant

As Shada D'ukal wrestled with her feelings about Karrde, she would have been amused to discover that she was not the only one having trouble that night. Two cabins down, Talon Karrde finally gave up trying to sleep. Listening to the soft hiss of the air-recycling unit, he was doing his utmost to sort out the jumble of thoughts that paraded through his mind. It wasn't just the responsibilities he felt for the crew. It wasn't just the tension related to the Bothans' plot. It wasn't even the subconscious feeling that he needed to contact Mara on Coruscant. It was somehow … ephemeral. Despite his best efforts, he just couldn't seem to put his finger on the source of his discomfort. _Be truthful, Talon, you know that's not the case. You know what's at the root of all your unease._ Karrde grimaced to himself. He certainly did. _Shada._

Karrde found himself at a loss as he tried to analyze his feelings. As he had done with Mara, he had treated her with respect and now looked upon himself as a sort of "big brother." He smiled to himself as he recalled how he had initially wondered if the relationship with Mara would go anywhere; she had quickly disabused him of that notion. Instead, they had become colleagues, then friends, and now, family, although Karrde wasn't sure if that was the right word to describe their current relationship. But whatever the word was, it described a bond that transcended space and time.

Again Karrde smiled to himself. He seemed to have developed a habit of picking up strays over the years. Mara, H'sishi, and now Shada. _Ah, Shada,_ he mused to himself, _you and I are alike in many ways. We both see honor and loyalty as traits that are in short supply these days. And have I not treated you honorably these past months?_ In fact, Karrde had kept a respectful distance the past year. He had been secretly amused when she had confronted him shortly after joining the crew. _OK, Karrde,_ she had said. _What's it going to be? What's the price I have to pay for your actions on the _Relentless? His response that she owed him nothing, except her promise to do her best and not betray him or the crew, had caught her by surprise. Eying him suspiciously, Shada had been blunt. _Do I have to spell it out? What sort of sleeping arrangements have you made for me?_ Now it was Karrde's turn to be caught off guard. Fortunately, the years of practice had enabled him to hide his surprise. _Is something wrong with your cabin?_ he had responded. _It used to be Mara's. If it isn't suitable, I'll have Aves switch some of the cabin assignments._ Shada had mumbled some sort of reply and stalked off. But she never brought the matter up again, and Karrde had been careful not to broach the subject again, either.

But now … it was different. _C'mon, Talon, why would someone like Shada D'ukal be interested in you._ Not that he wasn't attractive in what the holopress would call a "mature way." _It certainly isn't for the lifestyle you lead,_ he thought to himself. _Besides, my "lifestyle" won't endear me to many women. After all, who wants to be involved with the head of a smuggling organization, even if I've gone "respectable" now? It isn't exactly a job that comes with security._ Karrde paused in his thoughts. _On the other hand, Booster married and raised a family, albeit under somewhat trying circumstances. And what job is safe these days, peace with the Empire notwithstanding?_

Out of nowhere, he recalled something Han Solo had asked him a year ago. They were on board the _Chimaera_, watching Admiral Pellaeon and the New Republic officials sign the treaty that ended the war with the Empire. _You know, I asked you once what it would take to get you to join the New Republic. Remember? You asked me what it had taken to get me to join up._ Karrde paused his pacing as he remembered his response. _Yes, I remember. Kindly bear in mind that I have not joined the New Republic. My relationship with Shada is nothing like that._ Putting his arm around Leia, Solo's reply bore his trademark, lopsided grin. _Neither was mine. That's okay. Give it time._

Karrde shook his head. _I keep saying that I haven't joined the New Republic, but if that's the case, what in Hoth am I doing in the middle of a Bothan plot? And what did Jorj mean when he told me that this crisis will make it clear just how important Shada is?_

Karrde's reverie was interrupted by the com.

"Karrde here."

It was Dankin.

"Boss, I've got the results of the diagnostic you asked me to run on the _Wild Karrde._ All stations check out OK. Weapons are at standby and shields are functioning at 108 of normal. You can thank Aves for that last little bit. Not sure what he did, but that's what the readout says."

"You sound dubious, Dankin. Is something wrong?"

"No, Captain. It's just that I get a little bit nervous when Aves starts tinkering with the shield generators. He says he managed to increase their effectiveness by using a system of overlapping frequencies. Me, I'd stick with spec. I'd rather not have anything go wrong when we can least afford it, if you know what I mean."

Chuckling softly, Karrde assured him that he did and that he had complete confidence in Aves' work.

"Still, if you want to run a few tests after Aves goes off duty, that's fine with me. Just don't let him find out. You know how he feels about his work."

"I sure do, boss. Oh yes, you also asked me to plot a course to Coruscant. Two jumps and then a few hours in normal space. We can be there in six hours."

"Good. Make the first jump. I'll be up to the bridge shortly."

* * *

Six hours later, Talon Karrde stood anxiously on the bridge of the _Wild Karrde._ The years had taught him patience, but right now, it was as if all his experience was for naught. His request to traffic control for a landing pad near the Palace had been met with a polite but firm "wait your turn" response. No amount of exhortation was able to change that reply. _When your turn comes, we'll let you know. Don't call us, we'll call you._ Karrde's pacing back and forth on the bridge was affecting them all. Dankin glanced at H'sishi, who nodded as best a Togorian could.

_ Chieften. Do you remember what I wasss doing when I firssst came to you? _

Grateful for the distraction, Karrde answered almost immediately.

"Actually, H'sishi, I do. You helped Mara escape from Praysh's fortress.

_No Chieften, before that._

"Before that, H'sishi? You were a scavenger on Torpris … I don't see what you're getting at?"

_When I wass trapped among the ssscavengersss, I knew that my opportunity to essscape would come, but I would have to wait for it. But at the sssame time, I knew that I would have to make my own chanssess. Just asss you have done alwaysss_

Karrde stared at H'sishi, then ruefully laughed.

"Such profound wisdom. Of course, H'sishi. You are correct. If we cannot get access through normal channels, we'll just have to use the ahh, 'private' channels." Crossing the bridge to where Dankin sat, Karrde keyed in a seldom-used frequency.

* * *

Mara Jade watched as Luke Skywalker struggled to control his frustration.

"Wedge, can you remember exactly what she said? I know we talked about a lot of things that day, and as I recall, the phrase you used was 'look to the center'. But were those her words or was that your interpretation?"

"Why? Is it important, Luke?" Wedge inquired.

"I'm not sure, Wedge. When you first gave me the message, I didn't think anything of it, other than the warning it conveyed. But when Mara repeated the phrase earlier today, something didn't seem right. Like a crystal slightly out of phase. I can't explain it."

"Jedi hunch?"

"Maybe. But I think there's more than that at play here. Think Wedge. What did she say?"

The room grew quiet, as Wedge Antilles concentrated on the message Moranda had sent him that day. Luke's query had triggered a whole series of recollections. What was it she had said? _Look to the center?_ No. Wedge realized that those were not the words he'd heard. Strange. How could he have made such a mistake? It was not like him to misconstrue such an important communication. _Look for the center?_ No. Not that either. _Look for the point in the center? _No. Almost ... tantalizing ... close ...

"I got it!" Wedge exclaimed. "Look to the center point."

Mara was the first to react.

"That makes no sense, Wedge. Look to the center point? We're no further ahead than — "

It was Luke who interrupted.

"Oh Sith. Not 'look to the center point', Mara. 'Look to Centerpoint.' That's what the message said. 'Look to Centerpoint.' The Bothans are planning to take over Centerpoint."

* * *

<> <> <>

Half-muffled by the pillow, a sleepy voice called out "Go away, I'm not taking any calls."

#> <> <>

_Guess that's not going to work. Where's that nerf herder when I really need him?_

Sighing to herself, Leia Organa Solo made her way to the com unit. Her lassitude evaporated as she saw whom the call was from.

"Good morning, Councilor. Sorry to wake you, but I urgently need to get hold of Mara, and traffic control seems uninterested in expediting that task. I'm sure you realize that it was only with great reluctance that I sought your help."

Leia had not become the successful politician she was without being able to "read" people, and right now, Karrde's whole being screamed "we're all in danger."

"Give me a moment, Karrde. But stay on this channel." Leia quickly contacted the Palace traffic control. It did not take long to overcome the landing pad "shortage" that Karrde had encountered. Switching back, she gave him the pad information.

"Thanks Leia. I appreciate this."

"No problem, Karrde. The nice thing about being Chief of State is that people do what you ask them to. Now, what's the emergency?"

Karrde's response was measured.

"I'd prefer to discuss this in person. And if you don't mind, perhaps we can save some repetition. The reason I came to Coruscant was that I needed to speak with Mara. But the message is equally essential for you. I tried raising her at Luke's, but all I get is the auto-reply. By any chance, do you know where she is?"

"No, Karrde, but let me see if I can find out. Hold on."

Leia again switched frequencies. Keying for Luke's office, she was greeted by the receptionist. Leia could tell from his flustered look that he didn't normally face the New Republic's Chief of State.

"President Organa Solo. How may I be of service?"

"I need to find Luke. Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, Madame President. He and Mara Jade had some urgent matter at Rogue HQ. Master Skywalker did say that I was not to release his whereabouts. But I guess he would allow an exception in your case. After all, you are his sister, and the New Republic Chief of State."

Leia smiled and thanked the bureaucratic mind that saw all relationships as a pyramid of power.

"Thanks."

Breaking the connection, she contacted Karrde.

"Mara and Luke are both at Rogue Squadron Headquarters. Tell you what, Karrde. Wait for me at your landing pad. I'll be there in, oh, about an hour and then we'll both go to Rogue HQ." A mischievous grin warred with Leia's formal tone. "I suspect that I will have better luck than you in getting us to see them."

"Agreed, Councilor. One hour. I'll be waiting. Karrde out."


	20. The Plotters Revealed

Moranda read the printout of Borsk Fey'lya's translation of Eri Grai'yka's conversation with Elder Jarif Rayl'arr.

Eri) Jairf! Don't speak Bothan, you fool. Someone could hear.

Jarif) Who is here to hear, Eri? Who in your household would understand Bothan in any case? Is that not why you employ these disgraceful aliens, so we can speak freely around them? Even for a Bothan you are paranoid.

E) My contact says we need to be careful. He claims to have recognized a spy in our midst, one of the staff.

J) Which one? Did he say?

E) No, he just laughed and said I should be able to figure it out myself.

J) And have you?

E) No, I nearly begged him to tell me, but he sneered and said to not worry my 'furry little head' about it, that he'd neutralize the 'old biddy' … whatever a 'biddy' is.

J) An old bothersome female, I believe … Did he mean you, my dear?

E) Laugh all you want, old man. I think it's the maid.

J) Ridiculous. She's ancient, and female and … and human! I'd sooner suspect that elderly scholar who was tutoring my granddaughter … Son of the Evil One! It IS her!

E) Which the maid or the tutor?

J) Both, they are the same being.

E) Are you sure?

J) No, not really, but keep a sharp watch on that human.

E) I shall. Did you secure the funds to pay for the clo …

J) Silence, someone is by the window.

E) It's just one of those exterminators … Oh! One of those HUMAN exterminators! Spying!

J) Yes my surveillance detector just started vibrating.

E) We are being listened to. Good thing I insisted on speaking in B'wuidreva

J) Do you have a shielding device?

E) Why? He can't understand us.

J) You think we are the only ones on Bothawui who speak B'wuidreva, child?

E) Who's being paranoid now? If it makes you happy, I'll turn on the shielding even though its hum is audible to someone whose ears are still young enough to hear its frequency. I warn you, that constant buzz will make me irritable/ul.

The voice file suddenly turned into high-pitched static. With a shudder, Moranda quickly turned down the volume.

"Well," Borsk said sadly, "That's it then. I've heard enough to convince Security to track their movements, providing Gen. Skar'kre isn't in Rayl'arr's pocket. But hardly enough to support you in your accusations of treachery and treason against the New Republic."

"Don't be hasty, I think my bug can cut through that static."

Fey'lya shook his head.

"I'm sure they're using a broad spectrum silencer-shield covering both Imperial and Republic frequencies? You forget — Bothans are master spies."

Moranda just raised an eyebrow. The tone of the static shifted as her bug searched for a way around the static.

"Madam, it's hopeless, I know the capabilities of NR equipment, I'm on the Senate Select Committee overseeing such things. And I know what sort of Silencer someone of Grai'yka's stature would have. And there is no way that —" His fur rippled from head to toe and back again as Eri and Jairf's words came through again, a bit hollow and echoed, but discernible. Borsk stopped the playback and rewound it a bit.

"Well I'll be Kesseled."

_We can always hope, Borsky dear,_ Moranda thought, while that other part of her brain searched for an acceptable explanation for her phenomenal equipment.

"Perhaps," she said with a sly smile, "That is why I was sent out with non-standard equipment. Something no one in the Senate, with its leaks, would know how to counter." She gulped some lum before continuing, "There, the static is clearing, can you make out the words yet, Senator?"

"Almost … something about the folly of trusting … something … Ah, here we go."

The static cleared. As Fey'lya simultaneously translated and transcribed the words of Eri Grai'yka and Jairf Rayl'arr, Moranda's little printer once again began to spew out the transcript.

E) Obnoxious human.

J) Would that we could accomplish our goal without his help. Do we really need him? Can't we capture and utilize this installation by ourselves?

E) Oh I'm sure we could, but all that would do is destroy Coruscant. We couldn't punish Skywalker and his mate the assassin, and bring down those false Imperials Gilad Pellaeon and High General Sutt Ramic, and free Bothawui from pseudo-humans like Borsk Fey'lya.

J) Don't be too harsh on Fey'lya, he serves Bothawui well, protecting the clans from outsiders. He's kept that trial bottled up in the judiciary committee hasn't he? And you thought that he was leading the lynch mob, didn't you. A clever ruse. Rush it into committee and let it die a slow death.

E) But the holovids got hold of the main defendants list …

J) Which, through your mother's foresight those many years ago, does not contain the names of anyone from Clan Earr or Ayka.

E) I'll thank her the next time I visit her grave, the grave YOU sent her to so early.

J) Let us not bring up old quarrels at a time like this. We, the unnamed clans, MUST work together in this, whatever our past disputes. Borsk is a useful tool, regardless of what you and your mother thought of him.

E) I have to admit that so far he's been a good little Bothan, doing as you and Elder Lar'tvo suggest. However did you suborn his almost pathological love of law and order?

J) I merely convinced him that by protecting a few important, ancient Clans, he was saving Bothawui from the humanization of the New Republic. He is a fervent Bothan patriot, you know. Has been since he was a pup. I knew his mother and father quite well. THEY saw the value of Clan above all else, but young Borsk wanted us all to be Bothans first and Earr and Ayka after. He says it is the only way to preserve our heritage in the face of the human explosion. No more Clan rivalries he said, present a 'United Front' to the rest of the Galaxy.

E) What a human concept!

J) Not human — Camaasi. They are the ones who spread their 'brotherly love' nonsense to our young people. That is why they had to go. We were fortunate that 'Senator' Palpatine saw what that type of thinking was doing to our youth. He did what he could as Senator and later as Chancellor to help Bothans and others keep that creeping 'goodness and kindness' out of cultures where it did not belong. How fortunate that as Emperor he was able, with the help of loyal Clansmen, to rid the Galaxy of such foolish softness.

E) Then I'd think you'd be glad of Imperial help in finishing the job. Rid the Galaxy of more 'do-gooders.'

J) I just don't trust this 'exterminator' of yours. He seems shifty, even for a human.

E) Well, he is only an agent for a group of Neo-Imperialists who seek to re-establish Palpatine's new order. And since when have you been averse to working with humans? You've worked paw in hand with the Empire since its inception, before that, in fact.

J) And your family has kept to strictly Bothan circles? Does the name Black Sun mean anything to you?

E) I'll not deny that in my youth, I saw their disregard for Imperial Authority as an anti-human stand. I have since learned that it is not just humans who seek to destroy all that makes Bothawui unique. And I've learned that some humans can be useful, if one knows how to use them.

J) All I can say is that under Palpatine, something like the near disaster when the city shield failed would never have happened.

E) Of course not.

"Stop the playback, Senator. I have a couple questions.

"Yes?" Borsk was working so hard to keep his fur neutral that Moranda was reminded of a small school boy caught in a lie. Was Borsk coving up something? She only wanted to ask about the deep-seated rivalry between Clan Earr and Clan Ayka, but maybe a small fishing expedition was in order.

"What do you make of this arguing, Senator? They sound more like enemies than confederates."

"That they are. The rivalry between Earr and Ayka goes back many generations. But this feud between the Grai'yka and Rayl'arr families, is of recent, in Bothan terms, origin."

He stopped in mid thought it seemed to Moranda's trained ear. His gulping of lum said the same thing. He was getting to the part he didn't really want to talk about.

"Well … go on, tell me about the feud."

"There's really nothing to tell."

Borsk's fur told another story, but Moranda sensed she wouldn't get more out of him now. She switched to another topic.

"Just how deeply was Jairf Rayl'arr involved in the Camaas business?"

"Deeply, very deeply. He was a strong supporter of Palpatine when he was just a Senator, with Palpatine's ascendancy to the Chancellorship, Jairf rose quite prominently in Bothan politics, and it is a fact, Bothans started to benefit from the relationship. But some began to see that we were paying a price for our prosperity. Some members of the Bothan SpyNet were especially disturbed by what they saw as Chancellor Palpatine's growing power. They saw facets of Palpatine's actions that others never saw. But for the most part they were powerless, mere information brokers. I have long suspected that Jairf was one of the principles in the Camaas business, but his name and the names of his immediate subordinates are no where in any document, Imperial or Bothan."

_Bothan? They have their own records of this?_ Moranda hid her surprise, but wondered why she hadn't realized before that the Bothans would have their own records.

Borsk continued, "Of course it would have been easy for him to expunge those names from Clan and OverClan records. Many an elder managed that. The differences between each Clan's records and the OverClan's records tell quite a story themselves and we've always known that some of the guilty parties were not on any Bothan record. This is one reason little in the way of punishments and penalties have been meted out. It was felt by the OverClan leadership better to let all go unpunished than to punish those honest enough to not tinker with official records while those who would tamper with Clan annals went unpunished. This protest was, as you might suspect, voiced loudest by clan mates of those who names remained in the documents." Borsk paused for a sip of lum before continuing.

"Palpatine's private archive is another story completely. As you might guess from the holovids of the trials, a number of Bothans previously unsuspected by the OverClan leadership, are named in the Camaas Document. I had my own personal reasons for suspecting Jairf Rayl'arr and certain members of Eri Grai'yka's family. But nothing I'd care to voice at an OverClan assemblage. I was taken aback when those names did not appear in the Emperor's official chronicle. I was, am, still convinced of his guilt. And I've spent the last 6 months looking for any evidence. THAT is why I've kept the trials locked up in committee, not because I've been a 'good little Bothan,'" Borsk's fur rippled in anger, agitation and vengeance. Moranda watched as he tried to settle his fur back into a more neutral position, but much of the ancient Bothan predator was evident in his appearance. Moranda was about to speak, but she saw that Borsk had more to say.

"Now that I know it was Jeim Crou'yka's doing, I know where to look for evidence." He took a long, satisfied drink of lum.

"Jeim Crou'yka? Eri Grai'yka's mother?" Moranda ventured a guess, knowing as much as she did about Bothan family names.

Borsk had a faraway look in his eye, he seemed lost in memory for a moment before answering.

"The best slicer Bothawui has ever produced. The most beautiful too." He sighed. Then, with a great shaking of fur, he returned to the present, very much the domineering politician. "But that is a story for another time as well. Let's get back to business, dear ... Moranda." Borsk reached for the datapad. "First, I'd like to hear that last part again."

He replayed the last few seconds, listening not translating or transcribing.

Moranda heard the voice of Jairf < < Kazze Palpeetinish zaminis gom nickat nomar heje. > >

And Eri's reply of < < Beku nichka > >

She reread the transcript

J) All I can say is that under Palpatine, something like the near disaster when the city shield failed would never have happened.

E) Of course not.

Borsk looked at her expectantly.

"What do you make," he asked, "of Eri's tone of voice? I know you don't understand B'wuidreva, but the tone of voice remains the same regardless of the tongue."

Moranda thought about it as she replayed Eri's last words once again.

"She's cocky, arrogant. Condescending perhaps. Like she knows something he doesn't, something that will make him look like a fool when he finds out."

"Yes, that is how I read her as well. So what do you suppose, Moranda, it is that she knows? It's not about knowing where her mother kept her secrets. This tone of voice is not evident when Jairf mentions Jeim. It comes only when he gets nostalgic over the late Imperial reign."

Moranda sipped a bit of lum, thinking this over, then said, "Probably she is gloating over Navett, an Imperial agent, being the one who brought Drev'starn's shields down."

"WHAT!?" Borsk nearly dropped his glass in his reaction to Moranda's words.

"You didn't know that it was an Imperial plot to provoke a civil war, to destroy Drev'starn and lay the blame on the New Republic?" she asked.

"No, I didn't." Borsk regained some of his usual demeanor, "I can't say that it surprises me. A very Imperial way of doing things. I am not really surprised that Eri would consort with Imperials. She has a history of associating with 'useful' scum. But," his fur began to quiver in growing anger. "What I'm surprised … no, outraged at," his fur began to show a level of anger Moranda had never seen, "Is that Eri Grai'yka, daughter of a true Bothan patriot should knowingly work with the man who would have destroyed her native city, killing many, many Bothans. I shall bring her down if it is the last thing I do."

* * *

There was a knock on the door of the private room occupied by Moranda Savitch and Borsk Fey'lya. A far more urgent knock than the serving droid's. This time Moranda drew the tiny blaster hidden in her boot. Fey'lya quickly ejected the voice file card from his datapad. Moranda handed him a similar looking vof card as she secreted the one with Eri Grai'yka and Jairf Rayl'arr into one of the hidden inner compartments of her carryall. A part of her mind was left to marvel at how quickly she and the Bothan Senator responded to this potential threat with the same thoughts, how well they worked as a team. _Sithspit, I hope this doesn't become a habit, I'd hate to start liking the nerfhead._ The printer followed the voice file card into the carryall, but the flimsiplast transcript she tucked into a hidden pocket of her skirt, a cleverly modified version of the traditional Corellian laundry-lady's apparel. As Borsk opened the door, she plugged the keyboard into her cheap datapad and swiftly typed what she hoped would pass as a maid's resume and job application. She typed one handed, keeping the blaster at the ready, but hidden behind her wide skirt.

The small, elderly Bothan bartender hurried into the room, hastily shutting the door, talking all the while. His Basic was so heavily accented, it took a few beats for Moranda to realize that he wasn't speaking some unknown Bothan dialect. Fey'lya was apparently having almost as much trouble for he said, in Bothan < >

Evion, the bartender looked troubled as he spoke. < < But I need the lady to know mine words too, she is in even more danger than thou, M'Lord. > >

Moranda's ears quickly adjusted to Evion's rural Bothan and she assured him that she DID understand him. His fur betrayed great surprise at her announcement, while Borsk's fur rippled as well, but no more than what in a human would be a raised eyebrow. Moranda guessed the Senator's reaction was due to her use of a slightly more educated, but equally rustic form of the bartenders 'country Bothan.'

Evion gave her a short bow before speaking

< < Oh faire lady, thou art in grave danger. Madam Eri Grai'yka has sent out a city-wide plea for the capture of a household servant who stole her jewels. I knowth the face on the hol'cast wast of an oldster, an' even though thou dresses in the clothing of an oldster, I knowth that thou art not an ancient one, even for an human, so at first glance, I think it is not thee and the Master the guards in the street beyond art hunting, but then I lookt anew at thay holopichure and I seen that it IS thee, m'lady. And I knew beyond all questing that it twas thee and my master when the hol'porter said the thief was seed at CityCom with a Bothan genn'lman and that Madam Grai'yka was afeared for his safety. I knewd the lady was no threat ta you, M'Lord when thou comed into me place, so Madam Grai'yka is telling lies about that part, so I reckon tis all lies. But what sent me scurryin' here to awarn you was when I seen Romeet the Blade skulking down me ally an' Dinick Mychi with 2 other Squidheads, beggin' yer pardon lady, – Quarr'ns, out at tah front o' me place. Them's the worst enforcers on this side of tah city. An' just ta damp down yer fur some more, pardon again lady, theys all carryin' big blaster rifles tah like o which I ain't seen since Ol' Palpy, may his bones rot ferever, sent them stormies about town back in '68 > >

The old Bothan finally ran out of words and drained Fey'lya's glass of lum. Borsk took advantage of the break to speak.

"Moranda, do you have any trustworthy contacts in the city?"

"Not really," she replied, "just a couple kids from the university that I've been tutoring." _I really don't want to get the Underground involved, they're all just kids, but then again, Luke Skywalker was just 18 when he blew the first Death Star._ Moranda hoped there would be some other way, but if it meant the difference between getting the news of Eri Grai'yka's treachery to Karrde or Wedge, and not getting the news out, she'd use the kids.

Borsk seemed to be of the same mind, "Is the young Bothan that 'tailed' us here one of those? I'd hate to have to use an untrained youth, but if that is what it will take to get you and that voice file out to Bel Iblis, then the young man will have to do his duty as a Bothan."

"Yes, I think he will be of help, if we can contact him."

"Not a problem." Borsk took a small comlink from an inner pocket and thumbed it on. He spoke softly, but Moranda had no trouble hearing his side of the conversation.

"Ah good, you are within low power range." A brief pause, then Borsk continued.

"There is a student … yes, a Bothan student … somewhere near Evion's cantina. I need him brought quietly into the cantina. It's ok if you are observed. Be aware that in addition to the security personnel, spies and bodyguards we knew about earlier, here are a few local hoodlums out there." He paused again, listening to the voice on the other end of he comlink. "Yes … and Romeet the Blade as well is in the back." He touched the mute button and turned to Moranda. "Is there some way for your student friend to recognize that my agent is sent by you, some password or sign?"

"Is your agent that human female bodyguard I spotted earlier?" Borsk nodded yes.

"Then," Moranda said while searching in her carryall,"Have her say that she is Celina Marniss and that her Aunt Randi is waiting for him in the Cantina."

Borsk relayed the message, then he turned to the bartender.

"Evion, we need transport and some way to disguise the lady's humanness."

< < All I have fer a vehicle is my old speeder bike, ain't fancy lookin' but faster'n the green 'n yellers. And small enough to slip down some mighty skinny li'l streets. > >

"It's not the city cops I'm worried about," Moranda said with a wry smile as she looked up from her searching.

Evion threw her a toothy Bothan smile as he walked to the door < _ > He cautiously opened the door and left._

* * *

"Senator, do you have a destination in mind for us when we leave here?"

"I know a safe house where you can wait for someone to pick you up. I need to go to a ... place ... where I can find …" Borsk's fur was very agitated.

_What in the name of Vader is he so worried about?_

"Moranda, from the ah … safe house, I can get a diplomatic courier message to Coruscant, not to the Princess without a lot of eyes seeing it, but probably to Bel Iblis with only a few spies seeing it. Can you write something that wouldn't make much sense to the average spy but would let Bel Iblis know the situation here?

_Can I write something that would let Bel Iblis know who I am is the question. I haven't seen him since that incident at Darknell when Hal Horn was chasing me. How can I get him to let Wedge know I need help and that I've got the goods, and still have good old Borsk think I work for the man?_

Borsk broke into her thoughts, "Whatever Eri and Jairf have going is bigger than just the cover-up. The sooner we get this transcript in the hands of someone like the Princess or Bel Iblis, the happier I'll be. This is well beyond Bothan internal affairs … though how Jeim kept Jairf's name out of official records is strictly my job to uncover."

_And cover up if that would suit Bothawui's purposes._ Moranda thought as she continued rummaging through her carryall. She pulled a small parcel from her bag, undid a drawstring and shook out a skirt with the same green, black and white geometric design as the skirt she was wearing. She laid it on the table and dove into the carryall once again. Borsk began unfastening the many straps that closed his rather gaudy Bothan gentleman's tunic.

Evion returned with a short hooded cloak of the type favored by Bothan country matrons. Moranda took it and added it to a growing pile of parcels from her carryall. Evion was soon explaining some of his speeder bike's particularities as Borsk worked at extricating himself from his elaborate costume. Moranda wondered idly just how many valet droids it took to get the Senator into his distinctive outfit as she slipped out of her voluminous skirt, uncovering the plain tan jumpsuit under it. She smiled at Evion's stare, then turned the colorful skirt wrong side out, and slipped back into the now dark brown garment. She tightened a draw cord at each ankle, and just above her knees revealing the skirt's true divided nature.

Evion's bemused look turned to one of understanding

< < Tis like a lady's oldstyle riding bitches. M'Lord, clever things ladies clothes can be. > >

"Clever indeed. Evion. Unlike this Sith-inspired tunic."

< < Allow me to help thee wit' that M'Lord. > >

As the Bothans struggled with the many clasps there was a firm rhythmic knock on the door, Borsk immediately keyed it open. A disreputable looking human female and a somewhat timid young Bothan entered the small room.

"Miss Randi, are you all right? She," the young Bothan pointed with his head to the woman, "gave the password, but I've never seen this one before. I saw you at the com station. We were all told to keep an eye out for you and to let Her know if we saw you." Moranda could hear the capitalization of 'her' and knew that he was referring to the Underground leader know as 'The Changeling.'

The student put down his books and continued, "With all the security guards at the com center, I decided to not to call in from there, I was just about to look for a local call box when I saw you leave, so I followed you to here. There's a box on the corner but someone was using it. I finally got my turn and was just starting to talk to Her when this ... person ... came over and gave me that password. The one that means 'do what they ask, but call headquarters and let them know where you are.' So I told Her that 'Celina Marniss' was here, then I told her about you being in an old cantina with some fancy big-fur, and …" The kid suddenly noticed Borsk Fey'lya taking off his tunic. His fur went so flat as to look nonexistent, his ears dropped in dismay as he realized who the 'fancy big-fur' was. "Senator Fey'lya! I ... I ... I ... Son of Palpatine, sir, if I'd known ..."

< < Watch yer language there, yew wet-furred kit, they's ladies present. > >

Evion's admonishment struck Moranda as humorous, but she was pleased with the old-fashioned courtesy that assumed every female to be a lady unless proven otherwise.

"You did the right thing, Den." Moranda told the boy, "She'll get word to the right people." _I hope. I know she'll get word to Mirax, but how soon? And it's such a long trail from Mirax to Mara to Karrde. Will Karrde get the word in time? Will Bel Iblis remember me and connect me with Wedge? One contact or the other had better work … and soon._

* * *

Borsk looked at his human female bodyguard as Evion finally managed to extricate him from his elaborate cloak. "Kara," he began, "How many of the original agents that followed us here are still watching?"

"The Duros and the Sullustan are still there, watching each other as much as anything, Brin'car left after a quick comcall, when another Twi'lek, Abdi'aris I think, showed up in the front, I'll bet Brin'car followed that beggar to the back alley. That 'beggar' is really Grai'yka's head officer, Tremik Dan'lar, right?" She continued after Borsk's affirmative nod. "Dan'lar left after conferring with a young-looking female Bothan, I've seen her before, she need lessons in playing a …" Kara glanced at the young student, "… playing a woman of low moral character."

Moranda smiled inwardly. _My, how cautious we are of each other's sensitivities here, I'm sure young Den knows at least a dozen names for that type of woman._

Kara continued, "She's pacing up and down the walkway in front of the cantina, accosting all the males who come and go. A good ho … umm, professional, is a bit more selective than that, and she's got the look all wrong, and …"

"Kara, back to business," said Borsk," I know your professional pride is insulted when you see another agent doing a poor job and getting away with it. But, at the moment, I'm more concerned with Grai'yka's agent's observational prowess."

"Sorry boss. She looks pretty sharp in that department. I think she has the other agents out there pegged. I'm pretty sure she knows I'm somebody's spy, but I think she thinks I dragged the kid in as a cover to gain entrance to the place. Don't think she figures he's more than just a rich whelp looking for some action in a lower class neighborhood."

The kid looked a bit embarrassed by this, and even more embarrassed when he admitted that the agent had approached him with a fairly standard Bothan pick-up line.

"I turned her down, of course," he said virtuously.

Evion smothered a chuckle, and Borsk favored the lad with a fatherly smile, and then got back to the business at hand.

"So the only ones that have actually seen Moranda out front are the Sullustan and the Duros, the others are watching the back entrance?"

"Yes, and I think those two in the front are watching for you, not her."

"Good, then you and the boy will leave by the front entrance," Borsk said handing his cloak to kid.

"But sir," Den protested, "No one will mistake me for you, even if I'm wearing your fancy coat."

"I don't expect them too, lad. But in the cloak, you WILL look like someone from my household. Evion, can you age the kid a bit so Grai'yka's strumpet won't immediately recognize him?"

Without a word, Evion opened what Moranda had taken for a tool box and set to work on the young Bothan. The "tool box" proved to be a theatrical make-up kit and by applying various tinted powders to Den's fur, a subtle transformation took place. Den's half-grown kitten look was replaced with that of a young, but fully mature Bothan.

"Evion, you haven't lost your touch in all these years," Borsk said with admiration.

< < Thankee, M'Lord. I likes to keep in practice, ya niver knows when ya needs ta be sum'mit udder than what'cha natch'ly is. > >

Den admired himself in Moranda's small hand mirror. "Can I learn how to do this, Mister Evion?"

< >

"Your own mother would have to look twice to know it is you, Den. This _will_ work." Borsk assured them. "You and Kara will leave, she talking all the time about the maid job, you protesting that House Fey'lya doesn't need more servants. When you get about 3 blocks from here, you part company. Kara will give you a data pad saying it's her resume and for you to have the lady of the house look at it. Moranda, can you whip up a quick resume?"

"Already done."

With a smile Moranda handed him the cheap data pad she'd been typing on. His look of wonderment was priceless, and she decided not to tell him that she'd typed it up before Evion even came into the room. It was to be a legitimate reason for being with the Senator — if the knock at the door was Grai'yka's security man.

"Yes, ah well, um …" Fey'lya was at momentarily at a loss for words. "So Kara and Den, will part company. With luck, the Duros and the Sullustan will follow him." Borsk turned to Den, "Go to my office in the Breil building, tell my secretary it is a 'code seven', he'll know what to do from there." Fey'lya paused for a bit of lum, then turned to his bodyguard, "Kara, the other agents should follow you. Lead them on a merry chase, ending at the main spaceport, lose them near the Two Moons terminal. Then get in touch with me tonight at my summer place."

Moranda handed Kara the bright print skirt, and what looked like a deflated carryall.

"Find something to stuff this with, here's the data pad with the resume." Moranda instructed Kara.

< < What about yer head fur, ladies, tis differnt nuff that even the mouse-face, pardon ladies, tha S'llustin will take notice. > >

Kara looked at Moranda. "Not a problem," she said pulling off her wig, and handing it to Moranda. Moranda then removed her curly salt and pepper wig, and donned the raggedy blond wig Fey'lya's bodyguard had been wearing.

Evion stared gape-mouthed at the exchange, young Den blinked several times and gulped. Even Borsk looked discomforted, "I wish you wouldn't do that when I have to watch, Kara," he said, "You know how much it distresses a Bothan to see a patch of fur lifted off a living body."

"Sorry Boss," she replied in a tone that said she really wasn't. Moranda wondered if the bodyguard often did such things to keep the powerful Senator on edge. She thought it likely; Kara seemed like what Karrde would call a "tough customer."

The empty carryall look-a-like was duly stuffed with books and papers from Den's school bag, with Borsk promising to return the books by the next school day.

Evion had, in addition to the hooded cloak for Moranda, a plain grey coverall for Borsk, probably one of his own, judging by the tight fit over the Senator's broad shoulders and ample mid-section.

"Now, Evion," Borsk began, pausing for a deep breath to zip the coverall, "We'll need a distraction at the back entrance. Can you arrange for a couple of the customers to argue over something? Any attractive females about that could help cause a commotion?"

< < No pro'lem tere, M'Lord, I knows chust tha unes we needs, Anya Tvo'Vri tis in tha card room. > > The snicker that accompanied this announcement was enough to make Moranda wonder. Borsk's comment further piqued her curiosity.

"That should pay Tremik Dan'lar back for a myriad of sins!"

"Ok, Senator, lets see if I have this straight," Moranda took a last gulp of lum then continued, "Den and your Kara out the front, a disturbance in the back. I take it we will be using the secret stairway to the conservatory and come out on the other side of the moat."

Kara was familiar enough with Corellian children games to get the reference, but Den and Evion were totally lost. Borsk, seeing Kara's reaction, got the gist of Moranda's meaning.

"Yes, something like that." He turned to Evion, "Which passage should we take?"

< < Tha Soud one, M'Lord, T'will bring you out closer to the M35, that will be the best way to get to Mimaw's … ye art going there, is thee not? > >

"Of course. The speeder bike is where?"

< < Had me daughter ride it ta tha sweets stand by near tha ol' temple. She's ta leaf it in tha parkin' lot. Ye'll have a 1⁄2 block walk. Be sure an take tha left turn off in tha tun'le, or ye'll be walkn' too fer. > >

"Good, are we all set then?"

"Almost," said Moranda. She reached into the carryall and brought out a small figurine of a Corellian mirfalcon. She gave the bird's head a series of left-right twists and a tug or two, the feet dropped down revealing tiny compartment. Into this she inserted the flimiplast transcript that had been hiding in her pocket. She resealed the bird and handed it to Den.

"As soon as you can, without drawing attention to yourself, get this to, " she hesitated a half second, not wanting to say the Changeling's name in front of so many witnesses, particularly Fey'lya. For some reason, the Underground leader seemed to bear him a special dislike. "Well, you know who." She knew that Borsk knew she was keeping many secrets, what was one more? If Moranda and the printer didn't make it to Karrde, she knew the Changeling would eventually get the figurine to Mirax. Sooner or later, one way or another, Eri Grai'yka and Elder Jarif Rayl'arr's treachery would come to light.

Borsk poured the last of the Lum into his glass and saluted the assembled company. "Good luck, comrades." he drained the glass and turned to Evion "Ah, just like old times, yes?"

Evion smiled < < Aye, that it tis, M'Lord. 'Cept the last time we'ens did summut like this, we was a wee bit younger. > > His smile faded and his fur smoothed to a solemn look < < An' the last time none of us was of much value to Bothawui, not like now. Ye be careful, Senator > >

"I will Evion. I'm sorry to involve you and yours in Galactic politics." Fey'lya paused. "You know, I can't believe it, but I'm actually enjoying this. I haven't had this much fun in years. There's a sense of exhilaration in taking risks yourself. A sort of freedom instead of being stuck behind a desk ordering someone else to do it.

< < I know's what ye mean. I feels it meself. Take care of yerself, Borsk > >

"I will, Evion, I will."

* * *

TO: Garm Bel Iblis < gbeliblis:nrsenate:corumain:core:NR >

FROM: Allyse Conroy < aconroy:public:drev:both:u830 >

Dear Garm:

It's been some time since we met at Darknell, and I never got a chance to properly thank you and our mutual Corellian acquaintance for your help. You were a true knight coming to the aid of a lady in distress. I was so shocked and grief-stricken to hear of Hal's death just a few years later.

What bought to mind you two and our meeting so many years ago was another set of Corellian gentlemen who recently came to my aid. As the fates would have it, one of the young gentlemen was Hal's son. His father would be very proud of him.

As seems to be a habit with me, I wasn't able to thank the boys for their help before their uncle called them away on pressing business. I don't know how to reach them to thank them myself, but I thought that, being a fellow Corellian, you could convey my thanks for their help and to let them know that the first part of the job they helped me with came to an ultimately successful ending.

But now I'm back on Bothawui, wishing they were here to lend me a hand again. I got so involved in my study of Bothan history that I managed to outstay the time limit on my return ticket. I'm not sure the boys could be of much help getting me home, and Bothawui is such a lovely place that I wouldn't mind staying for a while and hitching a ride home with the next group of Corellian tourists, but my research paper needs to be delivered to the university very soon. I don't want to send it via the holonet for security reasons (I think sometimes the world of academic publishing is as cutthroat as business as smuggling) what I really need is someone heading home who could be trusted to hand deliver the documents to the board of regents before the next session. If you know of any such being who could help me out, please send a return message by this courier.

Sincerely

Allyse Conroy

PS, My continuing research would be much easier if I could find a copy of the Complete history of Corvis Minor.


	21. Threads

Leia Organa Solo was worried. She didn't know why she was worried, except that it was because Karrde was worried. Han had wandered in just after Karrde's transmission and she briefed him on the conversation.

"The thing of it Han, is that a worried Karrde is something that worries me," Leia concluded.

Her husband had simply shrugged and responded, "Well, whatever it is'll just have to keep till we get there."

"What do you mean 'we' Han?" Leia demanded.

"Well," Han replied, "if you're doing the worrying, that should be good enough for both of us, shouldn't it? No sense in me being worried, too. I'll just check out the _Falcon_ and we can be on our way to meet Karrde." And he had flashed her one of his lop-sided grins.

Leia's retort and all the anger in her melted away. After all the years, he still had that effect on her. Leia quickly realized that a few others needed to be at that meeting, too. "I'll be 15 minutes," she told Han. "I need to make a few arrangements before we leave. We're supposed to pick up Karrde at his landing pad in about 45 minutes, and then head to Rogue HQ. Luke and Mara are there and we need to meet with them on this matter. Can I leave those arrangements with you? Will we make it in time?"

Han assured that he would and they would, too.

* * *

Evion departed to ready the back door distraction. Kara and Den were poised to exit just after that. Borsk lead Moranda to a lower level storage room.

In the back, behind a hinged shelving unit filled with Corellian whiskey and Alderaanian brandy (some of it the genuine article, Moranda noticed) was a small door that responded to Borsk's palm on its touchplate. Beyond the open door lay a low narrow passageway, cobwebs and dust nerfs attesting to the lack of travelers along this route.

The passageway reminded Moranda of the sensational novels she'd read in her youth, the ones she'd found hidden in her Grandmother's attic. They all had one thing in common: A dusty corridor in a crumbling Corellian Mansion. The heroine fleeing thru draped cobwebs, villain at her heels, dashing hero in the lead. Well, SHE was closer to the flaxen-haired maidens of the stories than Borsk was to the muscular, darkly handsome Jedi Knights. But the dusty passage way was the same. And the villains just as treacherous.

At the end of the long meandering hallway was a door with a simple mechanical lock. Borsk found the key in a pocket of Evion's coverall. The door opened in the back of a large storage room. Moranda headed toward the front of the room where she could see a door next to a sign reminding employees of the penalties for stealing. Borsk stopped her with a tiny shake of his head. Before she could speak (which she wasn't going to do anyway) he made a universal "keep quiet" gesture and pointed to the left side of the room. Behind a shelving unit, Moranda saw a camouflaged door much like the hidden door in Evion's wine cellar. A quick look to the right confirmed Moranda's suspicion that there was also such a door on the right side of the room.

Quickly and quietly they slipped into another passage way. This one, just as dusty as first, quickly narrowed to little more than a tunnel. Water dripped from the ceiling in several places and small creatures scurried just out of the range of Borsk's small glowrod. When the tunnel finally widened and opened into a small alcove, Borsk was covered with grime and cobwebs. Moranda was nearly as bad, but fortunately she had no fur for cobwebs to stick to. Borsk wiped off most of the webbing, but left the majority of the grime. At the far end of the alcove there was a large barrel. Borsk pushed it aside to reveal a small hole in the brick wall, through which distant sunlight could be seen. Moranda followed Borsk thru the hole and found herself at the end of a very long, trash-filled alley.

"Quickly." said Borsk as he headed to the end of the alley. "This is not a good place to linger." Sunlight flooded the end of the alley as they emerged several minutes later.

* * *

As Mara absorbed Luke's revelation that the Bothans were after Centerpoint, her first thought was that Luke had come to the wrong conclusion.

"Bothans, Luke? What do Bothans have to do with this? Are you sure?" Mara questioned her husband-to-be. "Do you have some information that the rest of us don't?"

"I don't Mara. But it just … came to me."

"Jedi hunch?"

"No, it goes deeper than that. I can't explain it, but it _is_ right."

Mara's reaction to Luke's statement was again one of disbelief. But the more she thought about it, the more she knew that he was right. Somehow, the dissonance that he had referred to earlier had disappeared. And what was most peculiar was that now she could recall the entire conversation. It was almost as if a sort of mental block had been removed. Slowly she became aware that Luke was talking to someone.

"… and we'll be there in about an hour. Han and I need to pick up Karrde and two others that I think ought to be there too."

"OK, Leia, but please be careful. There are forces at work here that we know little about. Uhh, one moment."

Luke turned to Wedge.

"Wedge, can someone arrange a secure landing slot for the _Falcon?_"

"Sure, Luke, give me a moment. Leia, hang on, I'll be right back."

Wedge changed channels and quickly gave the appropriate orders. Switching channels, he addressed Leia.

"Leia, tell Han that you've been cleared for landing slot A7JK9. I'll have an escort ready to bring you and your party to my office. By the way, is Chewie with you? It may be better if he stayed with the _Falcon_ in case you've been compromised."

"Are you sure that's necessary, Wedge? I doubt that anyone could have known that Karrde was going to contact me."

"Maybe so, Leia, but given what, or should I say, who, Luke just revealed is at the root of this matter, I'd feel more comfortable knowing that someone is looking after the _Falcon_. Besides, Han would skin me alive if anything happened to that ship of his."

"You got that right, old buddy," Han interjected. "Seriously, Leia, Wedge is right. Chewie'll stay with the _Falcon_. I don't think anyone'll want to willingly tangle with an angry Wookiee." Turning to Wedge, he continued. "We'll see you soon, Wedge. Han out."

* * *

The alley ended in a roughly square utility area, bigger than a traditional Alderaanian mews, but smaller than a Corellian piazza. Several similar looking alleys opened into the area. Along two sides, directly across from where Moranda and Fey'lya stood and to their right, were the back entrances of run down businesses. The other two sides featured high brick walls and large overflowing refuse bins. Assorted shady characters loitered near an establishment that was a tavern of some sort to judge from the garish sign over the entrance. Next to it was what was probably an eatery. A wind shift brought the aroma of roasting meat to Moranda. She wished she'd had time for breakfast before she'd left Grai'yka's this morning. There **were** standard NRI ration bars in her carryall, "rat bars" they were called, and with good reason. She wished she had some of Karrde's field rations, but she hadn't taken any on this mission. She inhaled deeply, wondering how long a body could function on lum and vapors. Borsk must have noticed.

"I'm a bit hungry too, but this isn't the place to stop. We can grab a quick snack at the sweets bar as we pick up the bike. In fact, stopping for a bite will be good cover. But a meal is out of the question until we get to Mimaw's. She'll feed us well."

He was eyeing the loungers outside the tavern, warily. "We need to hurry without drawing attention to ourselves. As you may have noticed this is not the best neighborhood anymore. When Evion and I set up this route years ago, this was a nice middle-class neighborhood that either of us could slip through unobtrusively. But now … well, let's just hurry. We used to just go in the back door and out the front of any of these places, but the only one where we won't look like Calamari at a Devaronian's wedding is the _Temple of the All Seeing Presence_ at the far end of the plaza. The monks stick to their contemplations and turn a blind eye to the goings-on of the locals. Consequently, all factions consider the building neutral ground. Besides, it really is a sacred sanctuary. No one will bother us once we get there."

Borsk paused and Moranda noticed his fur had risen as if in … _frustration? Anger?_ He continued his explanation.

"However, getting there will be fun. The 'gentlemen' by the tavern's door are from the 'Sith Avengers' gang. They're probably waiting for the 'Vader's Quest' boys to leave the cook shack. But they wouldn't be averse to shaking down a couple civilians who cross their territory." He heaved a great sigh. "At the risk of sounding like Jarif Rayl'arr, these sorts of hoodlums did not exist during Palpatine's tenure. Malcontents either became Stormtroopers, political prisoners, or dedicated resistance workers. This lot looks like Stormtrooper material." He sighed again. "We could wait for them to leave, but that could take hours and we run the risk of being caught in the crossfire if the rivals show up. No choice but to head for the Temple."

Moranda checked the distance to the back door of the church, "Well, as the old saying goes, 'If ya ken't sneak, act like ya owns the place.' Do we go side by side, or is this the sort of place where the females always follow?"

"Actually, here _you_ could be in the lead, as long as you don't mind the locals thinking they know what sort of a woman would lead a male somewhere."

"Umm, an adequate cover, just don't get any ideas." Moranda stood, brushed a trailing cobweb off the Bothan's shoulder and strode boldly into the sunlight. She continued talking. "Unlike far too many human females, I'm not impressed with wealth, power, and the exoticness of non-human males."

"Ah, not like my esteemed colleague from Kuat? That woman will be the death of me yet. Would you believe that she … what is the phrase? 'Put the moves on' Garvisom when he first took on the presidency? Old Puffers had no idea what she was up to. I don't think Calibops understand seduction of any type. After she failed with him, I swear she looked over the Senate dinning room protocol list and went from top to bottom looking for a new conquest."

"And did she 'come on' to you, Senator?" Moranda asked in the same light airy tone that Borsk was using, but she suddenly sensed a shift in his mood. "I'm sorry, Borsk, I didn't mean to pry."

"No, Moranda, you're not prying. She did seem attracted to me, not my type at all, she's human after all." He smiled a brief, roguish smile at Moranda before he turned serious again. "How she reminds me of Jeim Crou'yka. What is it about some bright attractive females and the way they are drawn to power? Is it that they can't be content unless they have captured the attention of every male? Is it a game played against other females to see who can have the biggest stable of admirers?"

"Sometimes, yes, it is those things, but often a woman is attracted to power because she feels powerless herself, and only by attaching herself to power can she have any for herself."

"That could be the case with Senator You-Know-Who, but not Eri's mother. Jeim was beautiful, brilliant, we … er, all the young males worshiped the very ground she trod. We would have done anything for her. She didn't need to play her power games with us. And she certainly didn't need to throw herself away on that fool Leryn Grai'Syk. What a … aah … we're at the Temple door, we must be silent while within the temple walls … it IS a sacred place."

_Sithspit, and this was just getting interesting. _Moranda had the feeling that the Senator would not be continuing with his reminiscences when they could talk again.

The darkness of the temple was quite a contrast to the bright sun outside, but Borsk apparently knew his way around. Moranda knew that Bothan eyes adjusted faster than her human eyes and worked better in low light, so she followed his lead through a maze of what seemed to be curving hallways and closed doors. After a few minutes, she became aware that it really was DARK in the temple. There wasn't enough light for even a Bothan to see by. She suddenly realized that Borsk was following a remembered pathway. She was sure of that when she heard him counting paces, in Bothan, under his breath.

< … non si vifnon, non si hahnnom, non si binnon, … > _Nine hundred ninety-six? He's been counting paces since we entered the place! _

< ... non si jinnon, non si wifnon, non de nonnon … > Fey'lya stood still, then took one step to the left, < ehn hihm! > _One thousand. Are we there?_

Borsk turned to her and whispered, "Close your eyes, Moranda, it will be very bright in here."

He pushed a door open and even though Moranda had closed her eyes against the sudden light, when she opened them, she could make out nothing but brightness for several seconds. Then she saw a gloriously lit altar attended by numerous monks in yellow robes.

Borsk quickly walked to the altar, took a handful of coins from the coverall's side pocket, and placed them on the altar. He returned to Moranda's side and then led her to a set of large doors, made of highly polished wood. Borsk dropped another handful of coins in an urn next to the doors. Two monks were polishing the doors, one opened the doors and bowed to them as Moranda and Borsk exited the temple.

"Quite a place," Moranda said as a conversation opener.

"Yes."

Moranda waited for him to say more, but he stayed silent as he looked up and down the street in front of the Temple. Moranda had scanned for trouble as they exited the church and saw nothing that looked out of place, but Borsk seemed concerned. Moranda looked again and still saw nothing, the street was deserted … _Is that it? The fact that there is no one here and there should be?_

Borsk spoke. "It's too quiet, I don't like it. Keep your blaster handy, but set it on stun please, I don't want any civilian casualties. The sweets shop is midway down this street, on the opposite side. I hope Seni parked the bike out of sight from the shops next to the Temple."

They had been walking at a medium pace but now Borsk stepped up the speed to a fast walk. Moranda saw the sweets shop, her hunger sharpened at the sight of the Bothan delicacies shown on the sign.

"Will we have time to nab a bite to eat?"

"If the bike is parked in the back, yes. If it is in front, we should just grab the bike and go."

Several speeder bikes of various vintages were parked in front of the shop, and Moranda fervently hoped none were Evion's. Evidently luck was with her, as Borsk looked over the bikes and then walked into the shop. The sweet smell was almost overwhelming.

"A pastry and a hot beverage with a stimulant?" Borsk ask as they made their way carefully past a group of little Bothans all clutching sticky sweets.

"Yes, that will do nicely." She reached into her carryall for money, but Borsk stopped her.

"My treat," he said. She gave him a look.

"No," he said, "I'm not being nice, your credit chips are traceable and you'll need whatever local currency you have later."

She would have asked him why she'd be needing all her local money, but he handed her the most wondrous smelling pastry, she decided to eat rather than speak. She'd ask later. The hot beverage wasn't quite caf, but neither was it that sweet drink that Luke Skywalker had introduced to many of Karrde's operatives. It was somewhere in between, and hot, sweet and good.

Borsk led the way to the back exit. Only 3 speeder bikes were in the back. A large luxurious (for a speeder bike) model, a small sleek racing bike and an old tired looking bike in need of bodywork. She knew without asking which one they would be riding.

They were walking to the bike when the high-pitched shriek of an outraged Bothan child came from the shop. The child was screaming in the same dialect that Evion used, and Moranda understood enough to know that someone had bumped into the child and made him drop his treat. She looked back into the shop and saw a large Bothan female confronting a young Bothan male, demanding that he buy the child another treat. The female said something about the rudeness of today's youth and where was he going in such a Sith-induced rush that he couldn't see a child in his way. More words were exchanged but Moranda didn't hear them, Borsk had fired up the bike. The engine gave out a throaty roar, much deeper and more powerful than Moranda expected. Thoughts of the _Millennium Falcon_ sprang to mind. She hoped Evion's bike, like Han Solo's pride and joy was much modified. As they pulled out of the parking area, she glanced again at the shop's back door and saw the youth stuff a handful of paper money into the woman's hands with a snarl. Suddenly she realized that she'd seen the youth before. He'd been one of the loiterers behind the tavern.

"Borsk, I think we've been spotted." Over the noise of the bike she told him of the scene she'd witnessed.

"Thought so," he replied. "Keep an eye out for anyone following us. I'll be taking a circuitous route out of town."

As they sped along, on busy streets and quiet ones, through business districts and residential neighborhoods, Moranda kept a sharp lookout for a tail. She didn't spot any, but that didn't mean there weren't any.

She turned part of her mind to the letter she would be writing to Bel Iblis.

* * *

"… So you see, this has all been part of a plot to break the treaty between the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant. I am not certain what the plotters hoped to gain other than to plunge the Galaxy back into war, but I intend to find out." Admiral Gilad Pellaeon paused and when he spoke again, it was as if to himself. "And if they hoped to resurrect Palpatine's 'New Order,' they are sadly mistaken." Again Pellaeon paused, and then turned to face Hivinsvok. "I realize that this may be difficult for you to absorb in such a short time, but I assure you, it is the truth."

"Oh, I believe you, Admiral. This is so fantastic that it can only be the truth. There's no other explanation that can fit all the facts." Hivinsvok smiled ruefully. "The amazing thing is, even though you've shown me that what I believed to be my life is nothing more than some elaborate trick of flash-learning and imprinting, I cannot overcome my embedded loyalty to the Empire. And so I want to reaffirm my pledge to serve and protect the Empire. No matter it's form."

Pellaeon carefully regarded the pilot.

"It would seem that those who ahh, created you, Hivinsvok, did too good a job. Not only do you have the looks and flying skills of Baron Fel, you also have his sense of loyalty and obligation. And that, Lieutenant, will be their undoing. Mark my words, they will be dealt with … and with all the might of the Empire. We may not be the Empire of Palpatine's or even Thrawn's days, but we are still a Force to be reckoned with. Now, if you would, we still have some issues to address."

Flicking the comm, Pellaeon spoke quietly.

"Captain Ardiff, would you and Colonel Vermel please join me on the secondary bridge. Pellaeon out."

Pellaeon turned from his study of the panorama of hyperspace as his two officers entered the bridge. Hivinsvok, who had been seated at the conference table, rose as Ardiff and Vermel both looked at him and then the Admiral with their unspoken question clearly understood.

"Be seated, gentlemen. I am satisfied that our mysterious TIE pilot here is telling the truth. At least, the truth as he believes it to be."

"Are you sure, Admiral?" replied Vermel. "You will have to agree that it strains incredulity for a TIE Interceptor squadron to be hidden near Corellia, with their leader expecting to hear from Grand Admiral Thrawn."

"I agree, Colonel, but, let me fill in the details; I will ask both you and Captain Ardiff to put aside your skepticism until I am finished."

Ardiff glanced at Vermel; a knowing look passed between them.

"According to Hivinsvok, there are twelve pilots in his squad. I will spare you the particulars, but they all believe they graduated from the academy on Carida sometime in the past year. They were instructed to hide among the locals. A few days ago, they received a message ordering them to rendezvous with the _Chimaera_ and aid in a scheme to retake Coruscant from the, ahh, Rebels. At least, that's what they have been led to believe they would be doing. It seems that whoever placed this plot into motion counted on the pilots' Imperial conditioning to overcome any doubts they might have had. What those plotters didn't count on was the real _Chimaera_ showing up to spoil their plans. Am I correct so far, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," Hivinsvok acknowledged.

"Furthermore, Hivinsvok's squadron is the clones we have been searching for. I can't say how I know. I just know that they are." The Admiral noticed Vermel's reaction. "And no, it is not because of security reasons that I can't say." Pellaeon favored the Colonel with the ghost of a smile. "I really don't know. I just know."

"That's all well and good, Admiral," Ardiff interjected, "and I assume you intend to take advantage of the fact that we've intercepted Hivinsvok and his comrades. But we still face our original obstacle of not being attacked by New Republic and Corellian forces when we come out of hyperspace."

Pellaeon faced his second, and this time there was no mistaking the smile on his face.

"We won't have to worry about that happening. In fact, the New Republic forces will probably be asking for our help. And for that, I have to thank Karrde."

"Karrde!" Pellaeon's officers exclaimed in unison. "How can that … smuggler … be of help?"

Again the Admiral's smile was there for all to see.

"It's quite simple. You know that Karrde's information, ahh, brokers have been sharing data between ourselves and the New Republic. Although I was somewhat reluctant at first, Karrde's group has been scrupulously fair and open. So I intend to contact Karrde and let him know what's going on. He can pass the information to the appropriate members of the NR hierarchy. Given our proximity to Corellia and the limited time before the plot is supposed to unfold, I am quite certain that we will be invited to help root out the conspirators."

"Begging your pardon, Admiral," Vermel said, "but how will you get a message to Karrde? We're in hyperspace and we would need to revert to realspace in order to contact him. And once we do that, we will certainly trigger the local proximity alarms."

"Correct, Colonel, but I do not intend to take the _Chimaera_ out of hyperspace until it is safe to do so. On the other hand, Hivinsvok's Interceptor is hyperspace-capable … obviously … and I am certain that such a small craft could slip into normal space, send off the message and return to the _Chimaera_, without being detected."

For a moment, no one spoke. As before, Vermel and Ardiff exchanged a look, and then the former nodded.

"Very well, Admiral," Vermel responded as he turned to Hivinsvok. "I guess I'll need to borrow your TIE. Any objections?" The pilot shook his head. "Good. I'll be ready to leave in 30 minutes."

Pellaeon acknowledged his officer. "I'll have the transmission ready in 20."

* * *

_Let's see, I never DID tell him my full name back there on Darknell, so unless Garm compared notes with Hal Horn at some later date, 'Moranda Savitch' will mean nothing to him. Did I even give him my first name? Sith, it's been SO long. And using my given name will set off alarm bells with security types all along the info pipeline. Besides, I don't want my name all over the holonet even if it is over secured diplomatic channels. I need a good alias. An alias that Bel Iblis will recognize, but at the same time, one that won't tip off any prying eyes. _

Moranda's thoughts were interrupted as a particularly sharp curve commanded her entire attention. As Borsk leaned into the curve, she could briefly see his face, and the grin he wore matched the upright fur she'd been gazing past for what seemed an eternity. He was certainly enjoying himself. _He's like a kid with a new toy. No, that's not quite it, a kid with an old familiar toy. _He seemed so at home on the speeder bike that she wondered if he'd spent his college days racing more than studying. She'd run across more than a few Corellians with that same grin. Han Solo, Wedge Antilles ... even Corran Horn, much to his mother's dismay, if the gossip Allyse could be believed … _Allyse Conroy! That name will work. I used her with Horn at Darknell; Garm should remember the name. Yes, that will work. _

Once she'd resolved what name to use, the rest was easy. Moranda mentally composed the letter as they sped through the Bothan countryside. When they arrived at an isolated farmhouse, Borsk stopped the bike and directed Moranda to wait in a run-down gazebo at the side of the house. Moranda pulled keyboard and datapad from her carryall and had the letter nearly finished by the time Borsk had the speeder bike stashed in a dilapidated outbuilding behind the main house.

An elderly Bothan female approached her just as Moranda put the finishing touches on the letter.

< Master Borsk says to take ye to the outpost right now. >

She spoke in the same country Bothan dialect as Evion, but not as thickly accented. Almost the same as the way Moranda spoke it, as a learned language, not as a native tongue. < I think ye should be fed first, but he's the boss here. So impatient these young people. I did bring ye some little treats to tide ye over afore supper. > She handed Moranda a large packet of food.

_Supper?_ Moranda thought as she followed the woman. _Is it that late? _Then she remembered that country folk often called the midday meal "supper." A quick check of her wristchrono showed that only a half hour had passed since they left Evion's cantina._ Must have been the speed and the rock hard seat that made the ride seem so long. _More incredibly, she realized that it had only been five standard hours since she'd snuck away from Grai'yka's in the pre-dawn light. _How time flies when you're having fun … or scared sithless._

They arrived at a ramshackle building that made the old farmhouse look like a mansion. Entering through a rickety wooden door, Moranda saw that the building was full of antiquated farming equipment. The elderly Bothan led Moranda to the back of the building where she shoved aside a large crate to reveal a trap door in the floor.

< I don't think me old legs will go down that there ladder, > the oldster said. 

Moranda hurried down the ladder and the right hand hallway. She found Borsk Fey'lya waiting outside a sturdy metal door.

"How long will it take you to write a letter to your boss?" he asked.

"Already done." She handed him a data card.

"Good. Wait here."

He took the data card and slipped through the door. Moranda caught just a glimpse of high tech instruments and heard the distinctive whine of a high-speed holonet port. Borsk was back in a matter of minutes.

"There, that's done. Bel Iblis should have the letter in his hands inside the hour. Diplomatic fast-courier messaging is SO much fun to use," he said with a bit of a smirk in his fur. "It will probably take longer for some staffer to inform the General that he has a letter than it will take the message to slide through hyperspace. Is that fried sawui cakes I smell?" he said, taking the bag. He began munching on the goodies as he led the way back to the farmhouse. "Hope Mimaw's got a big meal cooking. I'm starved. Haven't had a thing to eat since breakfast, except for that stop at the sweet shop."


	22. Hail, Hail The Gang's All Here?

Talon Karrde was many things, but a patient man was not one of them — at least not now. It was clear to all that he was not happy with the delay. Deep in reflection, his mood was not improved by the sound of someone snickering quietly.

"What do you find so amusing, Shada?" Karrde snapped.

"Well, boss, Aves and I have a bet … he says that you'll stop pacing before you wear a hole in the duracrete, and I said that you wouldn't stop until after Organa Solo shows up, which may or may not be before the hole is deep enough to hide in."

Despite years of practice at hiding his feelings, Karrde could not help but laugh at Shada's comment.

"Was I that transparent?"

"Yes, Karrde," Shada replied. "Look, boss, we're all worried about what's going on. But bottling it up inside will not make it go away. Neither will wearing out the landing pad. We're all going to have to just wait till Organa Solo gets here."

Karrde's planned response was abruptly curtailed as he stared past Shada at a speeder approaching from the lower levels of Coruscant's traffic lanes. "Which, if I'm not mistaken, should be right about now." To his surprise though, it was not Councilor Solo who alighted from the speeder. Karrde could not hide his shock.

"Senator Bel Iblis. What brings you here?"

"The same thing, or should I say, the same one, that brought you here, Karrde. And, for the record, I am not here."

Karrde paused before continuing. The last time he had spoken with the Senator was aboard Admiral Pellaeon's flagship, the _Chimaera_. Karrde generally considered most politicians as only slightly more well-thought-of than a rancor, but Garm Bel Iblis was one of the few members of the New Republic hierarchy that he respected enough to trust. Moreover, that opinion had been earned by Bel Iblis' support of Karrde's "information-gathering" service when he had put the idea to New Republic and Imperial officials. Karrde grimaced to himself as he recalled the effort it had taken to convince most of the other NR officials to even listen to the proposal.

Leading the opposition had been Admiral Drayson. The old head of _Alpha Blue_ had been rather strenuous and vocal in his objections. Karrde could still hear his rant to Bel Iblis. _Get serious, General. There is no way that the New Republic Intelligence service will accept this proposal. Do you mean to tell me that a bunch of smugglers are going to be able to do what the NRI can not? Besides, how do we know that they won't sell us out to the Imperials? Or that they won't cut side deals to provide the Remnant with information they don't give us?_ Notwithstanding, the Senator had stood firm in his commitment. Thus, the suggestion that Bel Iblis was "not here" spoke of the seriousness of the matter. It also implied that whatever the outcome, any actions taken would not be supported or even acknowledged by the NR military or government.

"I understand," Karrde allowed. "I believe you know my colleagues, Shada D'ukal and Aves?"

Bel Iblis acknowledged them both with a nod.

"Perhaps we can exchange information while we await our ah, mutual acquaintance," Karrde continued.

"With all respect, Karrde, no. I do not think that would be a good idea. There are too many eyes and ears and I would prefer not to have to explain matters more than once. Especially since I am not the one doing the explaining. The fact is, I am just as puzzled as you regarding this message that I got. And I do not mean the one from our mutual friend."

Now it was Karrde's turn to ponder Bel Iblis' statement.

"Well, I suspect that we both will have our answers soon. I see a skipray approaching."

The Senator turned and followed Karrde's gaze. Without a word, Bel Iblis pulled a pair of macrobinoculars from his pocket and studied the approaching craft. His reaction was swift.

"Karrde, you and your crew get out of sight. Don't argue. Just do it!"

Karrde motioned to Shada and Aves, and the three of them quickly sought cover behind their landing craft. As he raced for shelter, Karrde thumbed his communicator and quietly updated whoever was at the other end of the comm channel. Positioning himself so he had a view of both Bel Iblis and the oncoming craft, Karrde pulled his blaster and made certain it was fully charged. He looked around and saw that Aves had done the same. Shada was nowhere to be found. Once a Mistryl, always a Mistryl, eh Shada? Karrde thought to himself. Old habits die hard, don't they?

1

* * *

As the skipray approached the landing platform, Bel Iblis wondered whether he should have given the letter to Karrde in case anything happened to him. But he had quickly discarded that notion. If who he thought _was_ in the oncoming craft, a verbal battle was the worst that could transpire. Still, he would prefer to avoid a confrontation. _I'm getting so tired of these endless battles. And they're so pointless. It's as if we defeated a military empire only to fall victim to another — bureaucracy._ Shaking his head in resignation, Bel Iblis watched as Admiral Drayson emerged from the skipray.

"Senator, what are you doing here?" The question was not unfriendly, but there was an edge to Drayson's voice.

Matching his tone, Bel Iblis replied. "I might ask you the same, Admiral. Are there now laws as to where a citizen of the New Republic can go?"

"It depends, Garm, it depends."

The Senator noted the use of his name and wondered whether this was an official call or not.

"Hiram, we have been friends too long to play these sorts of games. And there is too much at stake to prolong them. Why have you followed me here?"

Drayson seemed taken aback by Bel Iblis' direct reply, but quickly recovered. "I received a message from Councilor Organa Solo to meet her and … Karrde … here. She said nothing about you."

Bel Iblis smiled at Drayson's discomfort. "If it's any consolation, she said nothing to me about you being here either. And I see you still haven't accepted that Karrde's group has been able to do what NRI can't."

Drayson frowned and then sighed in resignation. "Yes, it galls me no end that they seem to be able to obtain data that my operatives can't. And yes, they have kept their end of the bargain. They have been even-handed and all information has been shared with both us and the Imperial Remnant. So I suppose you were right and I was wrong about him." Drayson paused, then continued, but there was a note of defiance in his voice as he did. "Doesn't mean I have to like it, though, does it?"

In spite of the seriousness, Bel Iblis quietly laughed at his old friend's revelation. "No, Hiram, you don't. But you'd better put on your 'friendly' face as Karrde and his crew are here already." The Senator paused, and when he resumed, there was concern in his voice. "You know, I wonder why Leia asked us both here. It was most curious. She called me just as I was about to call her."

Drayson didn't reply. Instead he motioned to Bel Iblis and they observed yet another craft approaching the landing pad. This one, however, they recognized. There was no mistaking the _Millennium Falcon._

* * *

As she and Han approached the landing pad, Leia's anxiety once again began to rise. She tried to recall the Jedi relaxation techniques Luke was teaching her. Her command of the Force was nowhere as strong as Luke's or even Mara's. Sometimes it seemed that her children were all stronger than her, too. _Face it, Leia, they are. Anakin especially._ She wondered if she had doomed her son to suffer the same fate as his grandfather. Luke was confident that his Academy would succeed where Obi-Wan had failed. But that didn't always assuage the last vestige of doubt. Leia smiled ruefully to herself. _I guess a mother is always a mother, worrying, no matter how much assurance is given by others._

As Han brought the _Falcon_ down for the landing, she noticed two figures hurrying for shelter. She saw three others huddled behind a landing craft near the rear of the pad. As soon as the _Falcon's_ ramp was extended, all five dashed for the _Falcon_. It seemed to Leia that they did not want to be in the open any longer than necessary. Lost in thought, it took Leia a moment to realize that despite landing, the _Falcon's_ engines had not powered down. As soon as they were aboard, the landing ramp retracted and the hatched sealed. _That was fast_. As the _Falcon_ lifted off, she became aware of Han and Chewie directing someone, or was it more than "one" about "watching our rear." Despite his earlier assurances, Leia knew that Han was worried, too.

* * *

As soon as the escort left, Wedge led them to the conference room where he re-established the privacy shields to ensure that their discussions could not be bugged. Admiral Drayson's only reaction was a pair of raised eyebrows; Karrde nodded approvingly and Bel Iblis acted as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Whether by accident or by design, Karrde and his crew wound up on the same side of the table as Mara and Luke. Leia and Han were on the other side with Corran and Wedge, and Drayson and Bel Iblis faced off at the ends of the table. For a moment no one spoke. Leia wondered if the meeting was going to disintegrate into a finger-pointing exercise. It didn't take a Force adept to know that Drayson was not happy about sharing the room with Karrde. But she recognized that neither was Karrde happy about the inclusion of the head of _Alpha Blue_. They all stared at each other, wondering who would speak first. It was Leia who broke the impasse.

"Oh, this is childish. Look at you all. Put your pride away Hiram. You too, Kardde. There's too much at stake here to let ego get in the way of what needs to be done."

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft swoosh of the air recyclers. Where before Drayson and Karrde appeared ready to argue at the first opportunity, they both now wore the embarrassed looks of little boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Leia on the other hand bore a satisfied look as she surveyed the table.

"That's better. I suppose you're all wondering why I asked Senator Bel Iblis and Admiral Drayson to join us." Leia paused and she almost sounded apologetic when she continued. "Truth is, I don't know why. It just seemed to me that I ought to. The funny thing is that Garm was about to call me — he urgently needed to to contact Corran. It just felt right to have him join us." Leia turned to Luke and smiled. "I guess all that training you're giving me isn't going to waste."

Leia turned to Karrde.

"As for Admiral Drayson, well, Karrde, in a way, he's here because of you. After I had a chance to reflect on your message to me, I had a hunch that whatever it was that you needed to speak with Mara about was not something that could go through regular channels. And if it was something serious enough to bring you to Coruscant, then it had to be something that might be in the purview of Alpha Blue. Was I wrong about that?"

Reluctantly, Karrde nodded. "No, Leia, you weren't."

* * *

Borsk led the way back to the farmhouse. The aroma emanating from the kitchen was wonderful. Moranda glanced at the powerful Senator and was not really surprised to see an expression on his face like that of a contented child. He must have felt her glance and realized how he looked.

"Being here always takes me back. A 'home' sort of feeling. Even though I never actually lived here. By the time Mimaw was installed in this place, I was at the University. Evion and a few of the younger ones were still with Mimaw and Papaw came here. Mimaw moved most of us to Bothawui, to Drev'starn, when I finished what schooling was available on Kothlis. But city life didn't suit any of them, and this was a close as one could get to the semi-rural compound we had on Kothlis."

Moranda had the feeling she'd walked in on the middle of a holodrama. There was no mistaking the wistfulness in Fey'lya voice. And how was Mimaw related to Borsk, if at all? She knew Mimaw was a folksy name for Mother or Grandmother or sometimes any older female. It was quite common in rural districts. "Is Mimaw your … ?" She hesitated to guess, not wanting to give offense if she guessed wrong. Fortunately, Borsk supplied the answer to her half question.

"Mother? No, not Evion's either, though as a boy he was sure she was. I knew my parents and saw them several times a year. No, Mimaw was our … nanny is not quite the right word; caretaker doesn't do it either. Mimaw ran a multi-species daycare center for the offspring of Kothlis' diplomatic community, but she also had varying numbers of permanent and semi-permanent charges. Her 'Strays and Orphans' she called us."

Mimaw greeted them at the kitchen door as she handed Borsk bundle of clothes and pointed him down a hall. << Clean up, young'n, then come ye to the dining room. We's got company this day. Ye'll honor her with a clean face. >>

She turned to Moranda and as Borsk entered a side room and closed the door, continued, in flawless Coruscant Basic. "I don't know what that boy has you dragged into, but you needn't continue on an empty stomach. You'll want to freshen up some too. There's soap and water in here." She had led Moranda to a small, brightly furnished room that had the look of a guest room kept ready for occupancy on a moment's notice. "I don't know if there are any suitable clothes for you to change into, but your outfit looks like it just needs a shakeout anyway. Is it made from one of those new synthetics that sheds dirt? You come well equipped, my dear." Mimaw closed the door and gave Moranda a searching look.

"So what is really going on?" All semblance of a frail elderly country matron suddenly dropped from the Bothan woman. In its place was an old but vigorous … _agent_ was the feel that Moranda got. _Well the Bothan SpyNet is older than the Empire, so I suppose there might be 'old spies'_ Moranda's inner mind reasoned.

Mimaw had paused to listen to the sound of an old noisy sonic 'fresher from the direction of Borsk's room, then continued. "I got a call from Evion's daughter Seni about 20 minutes ago telling me to be on alert. I was expecting some of her elder sister's college friends and I was ready to give them a lecture about security breaches and how this place is a 'last resort' and not to be used to evade the campus 'Espos' … 'Espos' … really," she muttered disgustedly. "Like we'd let Cooperate Sector enforcers here. Well at least they don't call the campus police 'Stormies' like they used to." She shook her head in what Moranda took for contempt at the younger generation. "But you're not one of Beattia's friends." She stared intently at Moranda's wig. "Not your real fur is it?"

"No ma'am. Excuse me while I take it off." Moranda started to pull the wig off but paused to give the Bothan time to avert her eyes.

"Take it off child, I'm not squeamish. I've seen worse, believe me." A bit of surprise ripped across the old woman's fur as she looked at the wigless human.

"Ah but you ARE familiar. Twice familiar, in fact. I saw your face on the newsvid this morning and thought it looked familiar, but I couldn't place it until now. You're that Human Studies tutor, yes?"

Moranda's automatic reaction was to deny this, but there was something compelling about the Bothan's inquiry, and she gave a short affirmative nod.

"Well, that changes things a bit. Who are you really? No, don't tell me, the less I know the less I can be made to tell. Not that anything Grai'yka could dish out would break me ... amateurs. Is she working alone or are those fools Jarif Rayl'arr and Ceok Orou'cya dancing to her tune?"

"Yes, they're involved," answered Moranda, "And there are renegade Imps involved too."

"Imps! Well the less I know the better."

The old woman started for the door, and then turned back to Moranda, "I suppose some of Seni's rather cryptic message was for you."

Moranda raised a questioning eyebrow. Mimaw continued, "She said, and this is a quote, so pardon what passes for common Bothan among the youth << Me and Den, he's this really sangy vakaro that really could set ya to purring, anyhow he had a package to deliver at the college and he took me along … that's where I saw Beattia and I think there's a problem brewing, she'll probably be running to you for help … again. >>

Mimaw interrupted herself and switched to Basic, "That's a code among us, it means something's very wrong and one of my operatives will be showing up here. Like I said, I expected it to be one of Beattia's friends in trouble. I was rather surprised to see it was Borsk. I had thought the rest of Seni's call was just cover, but maybe it will make sense to you. The rest of the call went like this."

Without pause, she resumed her recitation of Seni's call in Bothan.

<< Anyway, Den introduced me to some of the older students, and there's this one girl, well, she's a bit older than then rest of them, but that's who Den had this package for, some sort of off-world artifact, I guess. Anyway this girl, woman, was a bit snargled about it until Den said it was from his Aunt Randi. THAT seemed to ruffle her fur at first, but then she like smoothed out and looked like she hooked into what is was all about, ya know. Den asked if there was a return message, like maybe payment for the goods, ya know. But she said not to get his fur in a twist 'cuz she expected to take care of it herself by midnight and if Den saw his aunt to tell her that she'd be at the Purple Dragon, that's a bar that some of the guys hang out at … _I_ would never go there. Den said he didn't think he'd be seeing his aunt, so the woman said she'd try to leave a message, but it would be better if she didn't have to. Well, that's when _I_ remembered that Den's Aunt Randi is that old lady that Da knows, the one that likes those cloaks Ma makes. So I told them I figured I could let her know.>>

Mimaw paused for a breath. Moranda knew just the type of brainless gabbler Seni was pretending to be and wondered how the old woman had managed to get that much of the narrative out without a stop. Moranda also understood the message. _Well, the mirfalcon is with the Changeling, I hope she really is in contact with Mirax. Such a tenuous connection, but it'll have to do._

"Yes," Moranda said aloud, "That part of the message WAS for me. Seni is a bright girl."

"One of the best." Mimaw agreed.

"Do you have any idea what sort of 'trouble' Seni thought there was?"

"No, she didn't say much more, she rang off rather quickly after that, she seemed to be in a hurry. I think she may have been following someone." Mimaw paused and there was no mistaking the concern in her voice. "Now that you and Borsk that are here, I have a feeling this is more serious that I thought." Again she paused, and the country lilt returned to her voice. "Well, we're as ready as we can be, under the circumstances. Supper should be ready in a minute or two, and I think Borsk is headed this way. Clean up and shake out your clothes and join us in the dining room. You can, I hope, follow your nose to the food."

* * *

Moranda could indeed follow her nose to the food. The table was spread with what would have been a full meal in the servant's kitchen at House Grai'yka. Here, it seemed, this was just the appetizer. Mimaw said, as she headed to the kitchen, << Settle in a spell, and take the edge off yer hunger young'ns, I'll be getting the meal on in jist a few shakes>> She had returned to her gentle country Bothan as soon as Borsk entered the room. Moranda filed that bit of data away for later. With Mimaw busy in the kitchen, Moranda decided to pick up the conversation she and Borsk were having on their way to the house. "So," she said between bites, "Tell me more about Orphans and whatevers."


	23. Starting to Come Together

"Oh, Mirax, that dress is lovely," gushed Iella, "Nearly as beautiful as mine," she added in mock one-upmanship.

"You were quite right that we needed totally Corellian gowns for the 'State Ball' after the wedding," said Corran's dark haired wife as she handed the deep red satin dress to the clerk for wrapping. "If we are going to be perfect little High Alderaanian bridesmaids, we need to remind everyone that we ARE Corellians. But don't let Leia hear you refer to her party as a 'State Ball.' Han says she's a bit put out that the Senate won't let her cut her sabbatical short."

"What's her hurry anyway? Old Puffers is still doing a good job isn't he?"

"Oh yes. And you'd think she'd have enough to do getting this wedding going and all. She says it because she thinks she could smooth ruffled feathers from the Camaas fallout better if she were officially in charge. But I think she wants to be the presiding officer when the final peace treaty papers are signed … that and she just can't sit on the sidelines."

"Ah, like Corran on vacation … two days off and he's ready to go back to work."

"He's better than he was in his CorSec days. Never could relax at all."

Mirax's reply was interrupted with a chiming from her comunit.

"I'll bet that's Corran wondering when you're going to pick up Valin. Just tell him it takes a lot of shopping around to find dresses that can tone down our beauty so we won't outshine the bride," Iella said with a laugh.

"It's not Corran," said Mirax, a perplexed tone in her voice, "It's on a frequency that only a handful of people know, and Corran's not one of them. I'm going to slip into the back dressing room and take this in private."

Iella watched her friend's exit, all her old CorSec reflexes alerted. _So, Mirax keeps comm frequencies that her husband doesn't know about? Business too illegal for a former CorSec officer to ignore? Or something more personal? _ She hadn't long to ponder, as Mirax returned moments later.

"Just an unencrypted text transmission … from Bothawui. Here, you'd better see it, too."

Iella looked at the small screen:

_I have a mirfalcon you might be interested in. You will want to take possession personally as your agent here is indisposed. Contact me about prices and delivery dates. A_

"Is that from whom I think it's from?" asked Iella.

"Yes, and I need to find a secure com console to call her. Where did my father say to meet him?"

"He took Jysella to see that new holotoon. They won't be done for," Iella glanced at her wristchron, "another hour. We could hire a speeder and head back to the port and the _Errant Venture_ ourselves. We'd be there in about 10 minutes. Or we can take the slidewalk to my apartment and be there in about 20 minutes and not register on any public trans manifests."

"Speed or anonymity? It's a toss up … Any place closer?" Mirax paused her pacing for a moment. "Iella, where exactly ARE we anyway? You've taken me up and down so many levels, on slidewalks, lifts and skybridges, I haven't the vaguest idea of which hemisphere we're in."

Iella laughed at Mirax's exaggeration. "We're in the Palace District. Where else could they charge these prices?"

"Ah, then we're nearer to Rogue HQ than I thought. A two or three minute walk?"

"Maybe, but do you really want to contact HER from there? What if Gavin's around? Besides, I think Wedge has his own personal bugging system there." She thought for a bit. "Cracken's office is just three levels down from here; maybe we could find a secure line there."

"I'd sooner use Borsk Fey'lya's office." countered Mirax sarcastically.

"Oh, right, those lines are only secure from 'outside' spies. Our own spies would probably consider it a state duty to know who you needed to contact on a secure line."

"So what else is close … and not bugged?" Mirax was deep in silent thought as Iella mumbled to herself.

"Drayson? No, doesn't like Corellians much. He'd listen in personally … Leia's office? Hardly … every spy wannabe has that place tapped."

"Wait a minute, we are such nerfies," Mirax exclaimed suddenly. "We're in the PALACE district, right? How about Luke's place? We can be there in less then five minutes if we take the Express Trans."

"Express Trans? With all this?" Iella gestured to the pile of parcels bearing the names of some of Coruscant's most exclusive shops as she continued. "I may still have 'CorSec' written all over me, and be the wife of a 'Hero of the Rebellion', but I'm not about to take this lot on the Express Trans."

"We can have them delivered to the _Errant Venture_" Mirax said.

"Corran won't mind the cost?" asked Iella. One reason they had brought Booster along was to help tote 'the goods' rather than pay those exorbitant delivery rates.

"At this point, what Corran minds is of no importance to us. She wouldn't have contacted me so openly if it wasn't a matter of life and death."

* * *

/

An uneasy silence filled the room after Karrde's acknowledgement. But before it could go on too long, Luke spoke up.

"Leia, I know you're here so that Karrde could gain access to Rogue HQ. You said the others are here due to something Karrde said, so maybe Karrde can explain what's going on. I don't mean to be rude, but we're in the middle of some serious matters and as much as I love you little sister, we don't have time for social calls."

_Little sister?_ Mara asked Luke over their bond.

_It's a running joke with us, love. Neither of us knows who was born first, so we tease each other about who is the elder, and senior, twin_.

Mara glanced at Leia and couldn't help but notice the amused look in her eyes. But when Leia responded, she was all business.

"Luke, you're right. But this is not exactly a social call, so why don't I get Karrde to start at the beginning. Karrde, it's your story."

"Councilor." Karrde acknowledged Leia with a nod of his head. He surveyed the others at the table, and for a moment, his legendary confidence wavered. It wasn't often that Karrde paid attention to reputations, both real and desired. But seated around the table were individuals whose place in history would be writ large for generations to come. Luke Skywalker, who had single-handedly re-established the Jedi Order, Mara Jade, his old second and Luke's bride-to-be, and Corran Horn — three of the foremost Jedi in the Galaxy. Leia Organa Solo and her husband Han, Garm Bel Iblis and Wedge Antilles, who along with Hiram Drayson, all wore the title "Hero of the Rebellion." _Face it Karrde, you're among very special company right now. And these folks trust you. Don't mess it up_.

"I really don't know where to begin. You're going to have to trust me on this. About five days ago, I received a message, don't ask me how, from an old friend." Ignoring the unspoken question "who", Karrde continued. "He advised me that a plot was underway that if successful, could plunge the New Republic into Civil War. Now, I know you're probably thinking that that was an exaggeration, but believe me, the sender of the message has some resources at his disposal that others do not. I've learned to listen to these warnings and to give them great credence."

"One thing I need to make clear, the message did not provide details. This is not like some detective mystery where the hero unravels the plot for all to see and understand." Karrde paused and glanced at Corran. "Present company excepted perhaps." The answering smile on Corran's lips faded as Karrde returned to his narrative.

"To put it simply, a group of Bothans intends to take over Centerpoint. I don't know the 'how' although I can guess about the 'why'. It has to do with the Camaas document Luke and Mara brought back. The revelation that many members of old-line Bothan Clans willingly aided Palpatine in the sabotage of the Camaassi shield generators has thrown Bothawui into the equivalent of a political maelstrom. In a way, I'm surprised that there hasn't been a more public outcry. I'm sure you've heard the complaints — why should Bothawui be singled out? Why hasn't Kyp Durron been brought to trial for his actions? Is the destruction of Carida any less than the Empire's actions here? And why hasn't the New Republic demanded reparations from the Imperial Remnant for the destruction of Alderaan or the near-destruction of Mon Calamari?"

It was Luke who responded.

"That's ridiculous, Karrde. Kyp Durron was under the influence of the Sith Lord Exar Kun when he used the sun crusher to destroy Carida. And it was Tarkin who blasted Mon Cal. It was Tarkin who sought favor with Darth Vader when he tried to force Leia to reveal Rebel headquarters. It was Tarkin who used the Death Star to make an example of Alderaan. He could just as easily have used one of Alderaan's moons, but he wanted to show the rest of the Galaxy just how ruthless the Empire was. In fact, his callous disregard for those beings on Mon Calamari and Alderaan galvanized opposition to support the Rebellion where before it had been rather unfocussed."

"Luke, I don't dispute what you're saying, but if you look at the issue objectively, you could argue the same thing about the Bothans who helped Palpatine. It was just a few individuals. And it was the Bothans who smuggled the plans to the second Death Star to the Rebellion, so there is a feeling that behind all the public posturing is an anti-alien bias. After all, these commentators state, the other perpetrators of similar actions were human. But no one is going after them."

Once again the only sound in the room was the gentle swoosh of the air recyclers. It was as if Karrde's statements had touched a nerve and everyone paused to consider that perspective. As the silence dragged on, it was Wedge who spoke up.

"No, Karrde, I don't buy those arguments. The Rebellion was many things, but it was not anti-alien. For Hoth's sake, just look at the history of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons. And furthermore, that bit about it being only a few Bothans is huttspit. 'I was just following orders' is the lamest excuse anyone could offer. Those who hid behind that excuse are no better than a rancor. Look at Han. He chose not to follow orders and saved Chewie. Got him cashiered from the Imperial Academy. But it was the right thing to do. Look at Hobbie. Look at Tycho. For Sith's sake, look at Fel! They all made choices. So don't tell me that some Clan leader's actions were just his own or that he did it for the good of Bothawui after seeing what the Empire did to Alderaan. Camaas was destroyed long before the Death Star was even a gleam in Tarkin's eye."

"Easy, Wedge," Luke interjected. "I don't believe Karrde is saying that he agrees with the arguments, merely that they are being offered. Right, Karrde?"

"Exactly. Look, you all know my history. So you have to know that if I came here, it is because there is the potential for a real disaster to occur. The problem, is, I don't have all the answers. My aah, sources are somewhat reluctant to provide the complete scheme to me. All I know is that the Bothans and Centerpoint are involved."

"Karrde, if that is all you have, why didn't you simply send an intel pack to me," Drayson inquired.

"With all due respect, Admiral, I was concerned that you might have been compromised. If you were, then the plotters would simply disappear underground and strike when we least expected them to." Karrde paused, and when he spoke again, there was an element of uncertainty in his voice. "I will admit that I did consider sending one of my associates to apprise you of the situation, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that I needed to get in touch with Mara. And no, I had the same hesitation regarding com contact with Mara that I did about the intel pack. And with Mara on Coruscant, well, here I am."

All eyes turned to Mara.

"OK, Karrde, now that you're here, why did you want me?"

Karrde actually looked embarrassed as he replied. "Mara, I haven't a clue. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me."

Before Mara could reply, Wedge spoke again.

"Actually, Karrde, it was me that needed to get hold of you. I contacted Mara in an attempt to find you, but it was me, not her, that needed you."

"So what did you want with me, General Antilles?"

"How do we get Moranda Savitch off Bothawui?"

* * *

"Sithspit! Where are they?" Mirax punched the palmplate again. And again the recording said, "Master Skywalker is not able to come to the door at this time. Please leave a message and he will contact you when he is available."

"Stang. Five securities checks just to get on this floor of the Palace — only to have Luke 'unavailable'?" Iella sputtered. "Is he really out, or just 'busy' — if you get my meaning?" she said, with a bit of a knowing smile.

"I'm sure he's not here. The agitation must be rolling off me in waves. If Luke were here, he'd feel it and answer the door no matter what he was doing," Mirax answered.

"Well," Iella reponded, "we're about a 30 minute walk from my place, 10 if we call a speeder. Unless you want to chance Rogue HQ? I mean, we have to pick up Valin, so we have a legitimate reason to be there." Suddenly, Iella's voice became a whisper. "Mirax, what are you doing? Quit fiddling with the palmplate. You won't get anywhere by punching all those different sequences. All you'll do is get security up here to see who's messing with Luke's lock. Lets head out and …"

A tiny boom sounded from the door.

"What was that?! … and what are you doing Mirax?"

The palmplate's cover was on the floor, and Mirax was hastily pushing buttons meant only for maintenance personnel. That was when Iella realized that Mirax's 'fiddling' was covering her actions to activate the emergency release feature of the highly sophisticated, high security palmplate.

"I'm breaking and entering, what does it look like?" she asked as the door slid open.

"Luke's not going to like that."

"At this point, what Luke likes matters even less than what Corran likes," Mirax said grimly.

"It's ok, Iella," said Mirax in a lighter tone when she saw her friend's stricken face. "It's an override code that Mara gave me in case of an emergency. And this certainly IS an emergency"

* * *

"Moranda who?" "Who?" "Why do we have to get someone off Bothawui?"

"Now I remember! That's who she was!"

The buzz of cross-conversations died as General Bel Iblis spoke for the first time.

"Luke, just before I contacted Leia, I got this diplomatic courier mail from Bothawui. The message was obviously a coded communication intended to look innocent to the casual reader but meaningful to the intended recipient. The trouble was, as the intended recipient, I didn't understand the message. The sender's name was like a memory that you just can't quite touch. I knew I knew the name, but I just couldn't place it. The only part that I grasped immediately was a reference to Darknell and the name 'Hal'. That had to be Hal Horn." The general swiveled in his chair to face Corran. "There was also mention of two Corellian gentlemen and the fact that one of them was Hal's son — that had to mean you, Corran. I tried finding you, but nobody knew where you were. Even Booster. He told me you'd gone to a concert with Valin. I had you paged, but there was no response. That's why I contacted Leia — just as she was about to contact me."

"I don't see how I fit into this, Senator. And who is this other Corellian that she mentioned?"

"That would be me, Corran," Wedge responded with a sigh. "And you know who she is. Remember when we were on Bothawui and we had a run-in with some of Drev'starn's ahh, finest citizens?"

Despite his efforts, Horn's cheeks flushed red.

"You don't mean —"

"Yup."

"Would someone please fill in the blanks here," Leia interjected crossly.

"It's somewhat embarrassing Leia," Wedge replied. "Back when Disra and Flim had everyone bamboozled into thinking that Thrawn had returned, General Bel Iblis sent Corran and me to Drev'starn to check out the Vengeance group. It was strictly off the record and no one was supposed to know we had gone to Bothawui. While we there, we ran into one of Karrde's deep cover operatives. Only we didn't know that she was one of his agents at first."

"Actually, she ran into _us._ We'd had our pockets picked," Corran continued with a sheepish look, "and it was Moranda who 'picked' them back from the Bothans who had accosted us. We worked together for a few days till we were recalled to Coruscant. We found out later that she had single-handedly prevented Navett from completely sabotaging the city's shield generators. He and his accomplice were able to affect a section of the shield, but nothing like they'd hoped to do. And to the best of my knowledge, Navett was badly burned in an explosion at the shield generator facility."

* * *

Iella looked on in amazement as Mirax broke into Luke's apartment, amazed not at her friend's burglary skills, but at her own casual acquiescence to this illegal activity. _Necessity is sometimes the mother of acceptance, too, _ she thought to herself.

Mirax quickly commandeered the secure com and began punching in a complex series of codes. "Iella, would you see if you can reach Corran. He said he was going to Rogue HQ."

As she called Rogue HQ, Iella wondered just what sort of "adjustments" Mirax was making to the com unit and why she was so worried about a trace or someone tapping into Luke's com.

"Mmmm, no answer at Corran's office. Aren't you being a bit paranoid right now? I mean, who's going to be monitoring Luke's communications?"

Mirax's response was quietly spoken.

"Not paranoid, just careful. Blame my father and the way I was raised. Did you try the HQ com center?"

Iella dialed again and spoke to the duty officer. Closing the com channel, she turned to her friend.

"Mirax, are you sure Corran said he was going to HQ? Lt. Hensen at the main desk says Corran hasn't been in all day."

"Maybe Valin persuaded him to go back to the concert. Corran sounded rather vague and distracted when he called from the hall. Would you be a dear and call the concert hall? You can use your hand com; the unsecured line should be ok. Just be careful what you say."

As Iella waited to be connected to the box office and then the head usher, she listened to Mirax's side of the call to Bothawui.

… _Just the mirfalcon then?_

_Yes, I'll need to come get it personally. Where shall I meet you? _

_Oh, yes I can understand you not wanting to be there yourself, so where will your operative be? _

_That complicates things. _

_Borsk Fey'lya! What ever would she be doing with HIM? _

_Oh. _

_Yes _

_I see. _

_You trust this Den guy then? _

_Uh huh. _

_Mmmm. _

Well, here's what we'll have to … 

The head usher interrupted Iella's eavesdropping. Iella quickly gave her an approximate location of the Horn family's season tickets and a brief description of Corran and Valin. Iella grinned at the young woman's breathless assurance that she knew what the great Commander Horn looked like. 'Dashing and so handsome.' Iella was sure Mirax would agree.

Iella turned her attention back to Mirax while the usher left to find Corran.

… _better if we keep this to as few people as possible. Just me and a copilot, I think._

_Yes, Iella would be the logical choice. _

_Of course Booster will try to follow, but I'll find a way to delay him and get to the drop point before he does. _

_You'll have the real coordinates of the rendezvous site waiting there? _

_Ok, I'll leave coordinates for Booster that will send him to Drev'starn and he can cool his heels there for a bit. I'll send a message to have him contact one of his suppliers there and I can get in touch with him that way if I DO need him. _

_Oh sure, I'll send you the name by tight beam when we get to the drop point. A second contact with a backup's a good idea; just don't contact the man for anything less than life or death. _

_Ok, give me those drop point coordinates again in a different code. _

_Got it. _

_I'd better get off line before Drayson or whoever keeps tabs on this com works past my ghost transmission. May the Force be with you._

With a guilty cough, Iella realized that the usher had come back on the com channel and had been speaking to her. However, with her concentration on Mirax, she'd missed the first part of what had been said.

"Excuse me. I didn't catch that. Where did you say Commander Horn was?"

_I didn't say, just that he's not here. The section usher remembers seating the Commander and a boy, but they aren't there now, I've had the men's 'fresher checked, I looked in the snack bar myself, no one remembers him leaving. There was a page, but Jeni, that's the section head, said he never answered it. She also said all five seats were empty when she seated a couple of latecomers during the band's second number. She remembers the Commander saying that it would be just he and the boy there, so she didn't think he'd mind letting these folks sit there until intermission. We often seat latecomers in that area since it's so close to the exit. Jeni didn't think it odd at the time that they weren't there, since lots of patrons use that second number for a quick trip to the 'fresher — it's such a slow piece, really not up to the usual …_ Iella interrupted the woman.

"Well, have him paged again, please. It's possible they're buying souvenirs or something. When you find him, have him call his wife. Thank you for your time." Iella closed the connection and turned to Mirax.

"They aren't there. Any other ideas where they might be?"

"Home? On the _Venture?_ The nearest game gallery? I'll call his com. You try home."

Several minutes later, both women had exhausted all manner of private numbers and frequencies, without locating Corran. They reached the answering machine tied to the home numbers. The duty officer on the _Errant Venture_ confirmed that Corran had not come aboard. They tried Rogue HQ again and had Lt. Hensen check Wedge's office and the Squad room, too. Despite their efforts, Corran was nowhere to be found. But it was the 'out of range' response from Corran's personal com that brought a worried frown to Mirax's face.

"Out of range? I got the same response from Valin's com, but that's to be expected, since his unit is just a short range 'kid minder' type. But Corran's com would have to be half way to Tatooine to be 'out of range'. Something's not right here, Iella."

"Try calling from Luke's com; maybe your hand unit doesn't have enough power to reach them wherever they are."

"No, I don't want to use this unit again so soon. I'm sure I heard the telltale clicks of a trace just as I signed off. Does Drayson still have a watch on Mara, or is it someone else now? Whoever the snoop is, he'll probably be monitoring this unit closely for a while. Remind me to tell Mara about my call and to warn her not to use the com for anything sensitive for a few days. Where else is there a topnotch communications set? I'd use my father's ship, but that's always monitored by someone in the NRI who can't forget the past. The fewer people who know I'm looking for Corran the better. Could we use your place?"

"How about my husband's office at Rogue HQ? Hensen said that he thought that Wedge stepped out a while ago, probably taking a couple of techs to lunch. So if he's not there to complain, I'm sure he won't mind us using his com. Besides, HQ is a lot closer than our apartment and better shielded. And Wedge won't have his own office bugged … I hope."


	24. OK, what's a mirfalcon?

As Corran concluded, he glared at the others in the room, as if daring them to laugh at the predicament he and Wedge had fallen into. Luke was studiously examining his datapad while Mara had leaned over and begun a conversation with Leia. Karrde and his crew were doing their best to imitate statues while Drayson and Bel Iblis appeared to be communicating by telepathy. Han wore one of his trademarked grins and it was obvious he was losing his battle to avoid laughing out loud. Snickering softly, he spoke up.

"You mean to tell me that two of the New Republic's finest had their pockets picked by a couple of Bothan lowlifes?"

"It wasn't quite that way, Han," Wedge replied with an injured tone. "We were accosted as we were trying to get a feel for possible Vengeance targets … and besides, they _were_ good. We had out ID packets hidden deep within our clothing and they still managed to extract them. They were professionals."

"Yes they were," Corran continued. "Professionals who took us for a couple of off-planet ahh, tourists, and decided to see what they could find. What I don't understand is, what was Moranda doing looking for us?"

"That was my doing," Karrde allowed. "I had sent her undercover to search for evidence of this Vengeance group and she was instructed to meet up with any NR types who arrived on Bothawui with the same goal." The one-time smuggler paused, and there was an element of annoyance in his voice when he spoke again. "What I _didn't_ tell her to do was try to bring Navett down on her own."

"Well, she wasn't exactly on her own, Karrde," Wedge responded. "She had us, at least for a while, until Bel Iblis pulled us back to Coruscant."

"This is all fascinating, but does it have anything to do with the present crisis?" Leia asked.

"Actually, it does, Leia," Wedge answered. "Moranda contacted me about a month ago and told me that she wanted to follow up a lead she had about some plot being hatched on Bothawui." Turning to Karrde, Wedge spoke again. "She told me that she had discussed the matter with your local administrator. Her ability to disguise herself, her contacts within the Bothan underground, and the experience she had from her stint last year convinced him to agree to her request to return to Bothawui."

Wedge turned to face Admiral Drayson.

"No disrespect, Admiral, but Moranda insisted that what she had uncovered meant that we couldn't trust anyone. After I threatened to scuttle her mission, she agreed to keep in contact with me and me alone. We set up a series of pre-defined times for her messages and actions to be taken if I did not hear from her after a pre-determined period of time."

"Two days, right?" Karrde interrupted.

"Correct. After she failed to contact me, I waited the agreed-upon two days. Then I tried getting hold of you. The plan was for you or one of your crew to head for Bothawui to make the, ahh extraction."

"But something's gone wrong."

"So it would seem. And when I couldn't find you, I contacted Mara, thinking that she might be able to do what I couldn't. Problem was, she had no better luck than I did in finding you." Wedge paused and when he resumed, it was with a conspiratorial tone. "If I wasn't able to get through to you or your organization, Corran and I were planning to go ourselves to see what we could do."

"Tell me something, General Antilles," Admiral Drayson demanded. "Why didn't you contact me with something like this? You know _Alpha Blue_ deals in these sorts of situations."

"It wasn't that I was unwilling to contact you, Admiral. It was just that your antipathy towards Karrde and his group is a matter of record, and I was predisposed to expect that you would not approve of these types of _civilian_ operations. To be honest, I didn't think you'd agree to risk NR assets to go after Moranda."

Drayson seemed nonplussed by Wedge's comments, but when he replied it was with a rueful look on his face.

"No, you're right Antilles. I wouldn't have been willing. I'm afraid that ingrained habits are hard to break, and in any case, even if I was willing, _Alpha Blue_ cannot be associated with civilian enterprises."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Leia spoke up.

"Garm, you were telling us about this letter you received, and it referred to Hal Horn, which led you to look for Corran … which is how we got sidetracked just now. What else did it say?"

Bel Iblis consulted his pad.

"Well, nothing that gives me a clue where she is. She refers to the previous effort that Corran and Wedge assisted her with and its successful conclusion, which we just discussed. She indicates that she could use their help again as she has overstayed her ticket. Translation: she's overstayed her welcome and needs to get off Bothawui. She says that she wouldn't mind hitching a ride with the next group of Corellian tourists. I assume she is suggesting that you and Corran need to get to her, Antilles. Is that a fair assumption?"

"Yes, Senator. But I suspect there is more to it than that. She obviously wants us to come for her, but that implies that there is a greater issue unspoken. Otherwise, why ask for us? What else does she say?"

"Well, whatever it is, it's couched in academic terms. She says her ahh, paper needs to be delivered to the Board of Regents right away."

"That would be the New Republic Council." Leia interjected.

"And she says that world of academic publishing is as cutthroat as smuggling."

"That would be a reference to me," Karrde noted.

"And she says that her research would be aided by someone providing a copy of the Complete History of Corvis Minor. What would that mean?"

This time it was Han who replied.

"Wasn't that one of the places we were when we were dealing with Warlord Zsinj about ten years ago?"

"I think so, Han," Wedge replied. "That was when Wraith Squadron was masquerading as pirates so we could infiltrate Zsinj's organization."

Shaking her head as if to dispel old memories, Mara interrupted Wedge's explanation.

"Wedge, Han, I can't explain why, but trust me on this. The reference is not to that time. Moranda needs you to come well-armed."

All eyes turned to Mara. Despite her control, she could feel the blush rising on her cheeks. Corran caught Mara's eye and there was the briefest nod of recognition. Mara's eyebrows looked like they were trying to lift off her face.

"If Mara says we need to be armed, then we need to be armed." Corran advised them.

"This is all well and good," Bel Iblis commented, "but we're no further ahead than we were a few minutes ago. Nobody has answered the question as to how we get Moranda off Bothawui. And more importantly, what's going on that she risked her life to uncover?"

* * *

Iella and Mirax took the public slidewalk to Rogue HQ, keeping important matters hidden under small talk. Once in the privacy of HQ, Iella gave voice to some of her questions. 

"Are we going to Bothawui?"

"Yes, I'll need to pick up the mirfalcon and hopefully, whoever it was that sent it."

"Ah, just who is this 'agent' of yours that is 'indisposed'?"

"I have no idea, other than it's a female."

"Huh? You're in a tizzie, we've violated I don't know how many security regs, and we're tracking down your husband so we can go gallivanting off on a rescue mission of some sort and you don't know WHO we're supposed to rescue?"

Iella stopped in the middle of a deserted corridor and turned on her friend, all her CorSec reflexes in high gear. "Explain yourself, Mirax Terrik Horn."

"I can explain it to Iella Antilles, but not to Iella Wessiri."

"Mirax, I haven't been a CorSec officer in more than 14 years," she said, somewhat chastened. "I'm sorry. Those old impulses kick in sometimes."

"I know what you mean. When Corran does that, Valin calls it 'going CorSec.' OK," she sighed, as a look of concern followed by what Iella took for resignation, flitted across Mirax's face. "I need to extract a promise from you. You DO NOT share this information with ANYONE. Wedge knows, but don't tell him YOU know, _I'll_ tell him that I've told you — some day, when the timing is right. Corran does NOT know, and probably never will." She sighed again before continuing. "Are you sure you need to know?" But she continued on without pause.

"The 'mirfalcon' is an old Corellian smugglers' code. It basically means a life or death situation. When someone sends a message about mirfalcons, it means they are in deep trouble. No Corellian smuggler would use the code lightly, and none would dismiss the plea. By using a mirfalcon _figurine_, she (who ever she is) is sending not only the 'help' message, but some 'thing.' The figurine is hollow, so someone sending the figurine is not only screaming help, but sending something important that he, or she, is afraid they won't live long enough to deliver in person. My father sent one to ... well never mind who ... just before Hal Horn arrested him. It arrived too late for anyone to help Father, although I often think he knew it would. But inside the mirfalcon, he had a message for me, and my mother's wedding ring. So if whoever this is has sent a mirfalcon figurine, you can bet it's important."

"I see, I think." said Iella as she took in all the implications. "But what does Borsk Fey'lya have to do with all this?"

"I'm not sure, our friend only said that the person who gave her the mirfalcon said his 'Aunt' was in trouble and that she was with Fey'lya. For what it's worth, this Den who actually delivered the mirfalcon seemed to think that Borsk was in as much danger as the unknown Corellian. And from what our mutual friend told me about recent events on Bothawui, he could be right. She said she would try to send word to the Corellian about the rendezvous so maybe we can get her off Bothawui, but that contact is tenuous at best. She WILL get the mirfalcon there, and I'll open it and see what all the fuss is about."

"Can't she open it herself and tell you what's in it?"

"Open it? You think a non-Corellian would be told how to open one of those? Someone's really pushing tradition just by letting a Bothan know the about the mirfalcon as a signal. There's no way she can open it."

"Uhh, no offense Mirax, but if the figure is hollow, why couldn't someone just smash it open?"

"Because there are failsafes intended to destroy the contents if the mirfalcon is not opened properly."

"Oh I see," said Iella as she digested this last bit of information. "So what's the plan then? Find Corran, drop the kids with him, and you and I take the _Skate_ to Bothawui two steps ahead of Booster?"

"In a_vweliu_ shell, yes. But first we have to find Corran."

* * *

Iella let herself into Wedge's office. As a general in the New Republic forces, and commander of Rogue Squadron, Wedge Antilles rated an office that was just below that of a four-star hotel in its comfort and size. But right now, the luxuries of the office were the last thing on either Iella's or Mirax's minds. 

"This is really bizarre, Iella. Hensen said that now that he had a chance to think about it, he thought he remembered Corran coming to HQ about an hour ago. Yet I'm still getting that 'out of range' reading for his com unit. Where could he be?"

"I dunno. Let me see if I can contact Wedge — maybe he knows where Corran is."

To Iella's frustration, all she got was the standard "General Antilles is unavailable" message that he habitually left when he was treating some of the tech staff to a quiet lunch. He always made a point of giving the tech his complete attention at such times. That was probably one reason his techs were so loyal to him. She tried the emergency override, but to no avail. Now she was getting as worried as Mirax.

"Where the Sith is Corran?" Mirax mumbled.

"If Wedge is with him and they're off doing some 'guy' thing ..." Iella was mumbling too.

Mirax tried and failed one more time.

"I don't now, Mirax, but we _do_ have one last option to find him. We could call Karrde. Let's face it, despite your father's protestations, Karrde is the premiere information broker in the galaxy. Sometimes I think the NRI takes lessons from him."

Mirax grimaced to herself as she contemplated the reaction she'd get from Booster if he ever found out that they had had to turn to Karrde. With an audible sigh, she nodded to her friend.

"Go ahead. Contact Karrde. We simply have to find Corran. And now."

* * *

"Mimaw's Strays and Orphans?" Borsk took a big bite of kejee fruit. _We were young Bothans with no other home for whatever reason._ Borsk began in Bothan, _I hope you don't mind, Moranda, that I use Bothan when I'm here, It's just second nature to use my native tongue in what always seems like my childhood home. We always used Common Bothan when we were kids, it cut across our clan and class differences. Mimaw insisted on it. I suppose we could have used Basic, but Mimaw didn't want us forgetting that we WERE Bothans … and besides,_ he switched briefly back to Basic and lowered his voice to a whisper, "Mimaw never learned Basic, she understands some, one can't live in today's Galaxy and NOT know a smattering of Basic, but she doesn't speak it." Moranda was glad that her years as a con artist ensured that her carefully schooled facial expression gave no hint of the surprise she felt. _There's even more to that old lady than I thought._

Borsk pick up an elaborate concoction of cheese and fruit on a stick, and went on in Bothan, _Besides, I always figured I was one of the strays ..._

Moranda was astonished at the change in Borsk. Since the escape from the cantina (that's how she looked at it) little bits of Borsk's past kept surfacing, but something always seemed to interrupt him just when things got interesting. But here at Mimaw's place, eating her excellent cooking and basking in the warmth of Mimaw's smile, Borsk's reminiscing flowed freely. _Must be the excitement of the chase, the close calls and now this "safe at home" feeling_ thought Moranda, _I'm sure Fey'lya would never be this open under normal circumstances._

Moranda was amazed to discover that Borsk had been raised by Mimaw, along with a group of homeless Bothan children, war orphans and clanless youngsters, even though (well, actually because) his parents were upper echelon diplomats. It was the money paid by Borsk's parents that allowed Mimaw to take in clanless children like Evion. It wasn't until Borsk was sent to an exclusive private school while the other children were sent to state-run vocational schools that he realized he was different. Apparently the second-class education Evion and the others were getting bothered young Borsk, for he set out to teach the other children what he was learning. Evion was the only one who was interested and he took to schooling like a Mon Cal to water.

Mimaw recalled touching scenes from Borsk and Evion's shared past, while Borsk seemed to revel in telling tales of childhood pranks. But the recollections turned serious when Mimaw reminded Borsk of the day he found out that Mimaw was _paid_ to take care of him.

_Must we talk about those times, Mimaw?_

_Smooth yer fur, Borsk_, she said turning to him. _This poor girl needs to know what sort of person ye be, and where ye come from, if she's gonna be stuck working with ye for a while. And I don't think, Moranda,_ she looked shrewdly at Moranda, t_hat this little adventure is going to be over soon. There's more here than meets the eye, I can tell yer both keeping yer fur quiet about something. Now I'll just go get the dessert, one of yer favorites Borsk, dear, and ye can tell her about it._

_Well, I was as pretty angry at everyone for a while. At my parents, society in general, but mostly at Mimaw for taking money from them. I even went so far as to accuse Mimaw of not loving me. I thought she was only putting up with me so she could get rich off my parents._

Mimaw had returned with dessert and stood in the doorway, listening with a look of distant sadness in her fur.

_Mimaw, _Borsk began, _I know I hurt you with that, and I've always regretted it._

Mimaw's fur then rippled from ears to toes in a "shaking off the past and moving on" sort of feeling. Moranda marveled at the range of expression a Bothan's fur could express.

Borsk continued. _It was Evion who finally talked sense into me. He said you couldn't pay anyone enough to like me if they didn't already love me. I don't think that was meant as a complement._

Mimaw laughed at this and Moranda let a small smile play across her lips. Borsk continued without pause.

_After what Evion told me, I thought I was Mimaw's favorite for a while, but later I realized that Evion was her favorite. You do know, Mimaw, that, in the beginning at least, all the things I did for Evion were really for you. To make up for ever doubting your feelings for me._

_Perhaps you thought that at the time, Borsk, but it was really that sense of justice that Papaw tried to instill in all the children that we cared for over the years. I wish I knew why it worked so well with you and Evion and some of the others and didn't even faze people like that Grai'Syk boy._

Moranda was about to ask "what Grai'syk boy" during the ensuing pause but the household com-unit chimed just as Borsk's beltcom bleeped. Mimaw looked startled at Borsk.

_Coincidence?_ she asked.

_I don't think so,_ he responded. _The call is on a scrambled frequency._

_Pick up on 3? _She queried.

_Yes … No, I'm not ready. Moranda, your printer, keyboard, and the highest tech scrambler/descrambler you have … and that scanner._

There was something in his voice that made Moranda unquestioningly hand over the requested items. Then she reached back in the carryall and brought out the "Karrde special" multi-function keyboard that she had hidden earlier. And from the bottom of the pack, she drew out a long-range sensor attachment for the scanner. That little device had cost Karrde a pretty credit. "Here," she said, "These might make the job" _whatever it is_ "a bit easier."

"Thank you, Moranda." _I'm ready now, Mimaw. On 3 after the next ring._

The house-com trilled again, Moranda realized with a start that it was just the 3rd ring, Time was slowing in her consciousness, her thought patterns automatically shifting into crisis mode.

_Greetings to thee_ . Mimaw was using her rustic Bothan.

_Mama? I dint get ye aways from yer supper didst I?_ Evion's voice came over the unit's speaker. Moranda noticed that the speaker was set to let all in the room hear the caller, but the room-wide pick up was on the mute setting, so all the caller would hear was what Mimaw spoke into the house-com's handset

Borsk mumbled to himself, '_Mama'? Is that code 3a or 4? Sith it's been too long._

Mimaw turned to him and mouthed _3a_

He nodded his thanks and typed a code into his beltcom, then plugged Moranda's electronics into it. The printer started printing as the beltcom was activated. There was just gibberish for a few lines, then, as Borsk typed what Moranda thought was the same 12 digit code he had tapped into the beltcom, the printer started making sense, if one could read Bothan, which of course she could. She wondered briefly if Borsk knew that she could read Bothan and if he knew she could understand what the printer was printing. The gibberish had abruptly been replaced by real words — apparently in mid-sentence

_**… recommend you leave now. Repeating, this is a code starflight alert. Recommend you leave now. Repeating, this is a …**_

* * *

"I think I can answer that question, Senator." It was Luke who spoke up. "If we are correct in our assessment, a group of Bothans is planning to take over Centerpoint. I don't have to tell you what that would mean. Fortunately, it is not generally known but there is no way they would be able to fire the repulsor or even get Centerpoint to act on their commands. So in a sense, we are safe from the worst consequences. But I fear the ramifications of their actions would splinter the New Republic along human/alien lines, and we have only just begun to heal the wounds from Moff Disra's attempts to convince the galaxy that Thrawn was back." 

"What do you mean, Luke, that they couldn't get Centerpoint to fire?" Drayson inquired. Luke looked to Leia and a silent question passed between them. Sighing deeply, Leia turned to face the Admiral.

"When Anakin reactivated Centerpoint a few years ago, none of us realized until the very end that the station had imprinted him on itself." Leia raised her hands as if to forestall the inevitable question. "No, the station isn't sentient, but that part of the governing program that enables the repulsor to fire decided that only Anakin could activate the controls. It will only react to his handprint. Despite years of trying, we haven't been able to get the station to respond to anyone but my son. So unless these Bothans plan to kidnap Anakin and force him to aid them, the worst they could do would be damage parts of Centerpoint. But the repulsor is safe."

"But they don't know that, right?" Drayson asked.

"No, Admiral, they don't. In fact, no one outside this room knows. And I must ask you all to ensure that it stays that way. Agreed?"

Whatever the response would have been was lost as a soft pinging filled the room. Karrde reached for his com unit and had the handset halfway to his mouth before the significance of his actions dawned on anyone.

"That's impossible!" shouted Wedge. "How in the name of Hoth did you manage to get a com signal into this room? The privacy shields are supposed to prevent any spying or recording of conversations. And that means unauthorized transmissions should not be able to get in or out of this room either. The only signal that should be able to get to us is one on a special frequency tuned to the privacy shields. Karrde, what kind of a com unit are you using?"

"Nothing special, General. Just the latest in technology from Azur-Jamin/I'att Industries. Mind you, this unit has the ability to piggy-back on commercial or ahh, other carrier waves so it is virtually undetectable." The unit sounded again. "I really should answer that. That signal is one the _Wild Karrde_ uses when it is imperative that I respond. It usually means there is some sort of emergency I need to deal with. So with your permission."

Karrde touched a stud on the com unit and the upper half rotated 90 degrees. Hooking the unit around his ear, he pressed another button on the unit and a small hand mike fell into palm. Pressing still another control, Karrde softly spoke into the mike.

"Karrde here."

_Chieften, I would not normally dissturb you, but there isss thiss transssmission you musst deal with._

"H'sishi, this had better be good."

_It is Karrde, it is._

It took all of Karrde's experience not to react to the change in speaker.

_This is Iella Wesseri, and Mirax Horn is with me. We have just about exhausted all official channels, so when all else fails, Mirax suggested that we contact the master of information._

"And just what is it that you expect me to be able to tell you?"

_We desperately need to get hold of Corran. Do you know where he is?"_

"Where are you right now?"

"_We're in my husband's office. You do know who my husband is, don't you?_

"Yes I do and I can answer your question. Come out of the office, turn left and go two doors down. Then knock three times."

_WHAT ???_

Karrde winced as Iella yelled in his ear. He slowly removed the com unit and returned it to its locked state. He smiled as he saw the others look at him inquisitively.

"What was THAT all about?" Wedge inquired.

"Oh, nothing to worry about after all."

Karrde was rewarded with a pair of puzzled looks, but before either Wedge or Corran could respond, the door reverberated with the sound of someone knocking. Once. Twice. Three times.

"That would be your wife, General, and yours too, Horn. If I were you gentlemen, I'd start planning what I was going to tell my wife when she demanded to know why she had to turn to me in order to find you."

* * *

As Admiral Pellaeon left the room to compose his message, Captain Ardiff and Colonel Vermel accompanied Lieutenant Hivinsvok to the still-deserted hanger where his TIE was being readied for its mission. Despite the pilot's ready acquiescence, and the Admiral's contention that the operation would require only a brief flight, neither Vermel nor Ardiff were prepared to put the _Chimaera_ at risk. Leaving hysperspace, even for just a few minutes, could expose them to the sensor net around Corellia. And neither officer was prepared to chance a diplomatic or military incident should the flagship of the Imperial Remnant be discovered in New Republic space without prior clearance. Nonetheless, years of service to the Admiral had instilled a sense of loyalty that allowed them to put those thoughts aside and focus on the task ahead. 

"I don't suppose there's any chance that we can change the Admiral's mind, is there, Ardiff?" Vermel inquired.

"You know what he's like when he makes up his mind," the _Chimaera's_ Captain replied. "And in a way, you should be grateful for that stubbornness. If we hadn't waited those extra days, Councilor Organa Solo would not have made the rendezvous and we would never have known that Moff Disra had locked you away."

A flash of anger passed over Vermel's face. "No, you're correct." Turning to their unexpected guest, Vermel continued.

"Very well, Hivinsvok. Is there anything special I need to know about your TIE? I presume it is a standard Imperial TIE Interceptor?"

"No, sir. Yes, sir."

"Well, which is it? Yes or no?" Vermel sharply demanded.

A look of amusement touched Ardiff's lips as he struggled to keep a straight face. He suspected that there remained some lingering doubt in Vermel's mind as to whether the pilot still believed this was all some elaborate scheme by the Rebels, as he referred to them, to undermine his mission. It was clear to Ardiff what Vermel was trying to do. Rattle the pilot so much that he might inadvertently blurt out the true reason he was able to locate the _Chimaera_ in hyperspace. It would not do to find that there was some new command sequence that would send Vermel on a wild rancor chase or worse, to his death. And judging by Hivinsvok's reaction, Vermel was succeeding in one sense: the pilot was certainly off-balance.

"Sorry, sir. I meant no sir, there isn't anything special you needed to know about my TIE, and yes sir, it is just a standard TIE Interceptor."

"Well, be precise, boy. It wouldn't do to have a communication breakdown now at this critical juncture."

"I understand, sir."

As they reached the hanger deck, Vermel saw that a flight suit had been readied for him. He changed and climbed into the cockpit of the TIE. A quick visual inspection revealed that Hivinsvok appeared to be telling the truth. The controls looked no different than those of the fighters he had flown years before. _This ought to fun_ he ruefully thought to himself. _It's been what, 3 years since I actually flew one of these. Next time, don't volunteer so fast._

Turning to Ardiff, there was no mistaking the laughter in the Captain's eyes.

"Since when have you taken up mind reading, Ardiff?" he gruffly inquired.

"I don't have to read your mind. All I have to do is look at your face. You're like a trooper who's been given an extra week of safe duty." The Captain paused and there was wistfulness to his voice when he continued.

"In some ways, I miss the exhilaration, too. I was a pretty fair pilot in my day. But TIEs are a game for younger men, and both of us are long past those times."

"I know, Ardiff, I know. However, this is a special mission, and I don't plan to do anything except exit hyperspace, send the Admiral's message and get right back where I belong — aboard the _Chimaera."_


	25. Oh, oh they know

**NOTE: **Due to the way the board handles html code, it is a major effort to get angle brackets "<" and ">" to show up to indicate a the language used on Botha'wui. Therefore, please note the following convention:

**Bold text** is Bothan

**_Bold italic text_ ** is the translation

_Italic text_ is Borsk's or others spoken words.

However, when H'sishi speaks, it is just italics.

* * *

**Details, we need details**. Borsk spoke aloud as he was typing. But the printer kept repeating the initial message.

Moranda had half her attention on the house-com. Mimaw's Bothan dialect took on a thickness of accent that it hadn't had before.

**Thee's alwaz callin in ta middle of sommit, Evie. Makes no never mind dat ye's mighten be takin' me from me vittles. Wha'da ye want?**

**I waz wondrin if M'lord Borsk waz out dat way todays. There waz some folks from some fancy comp'ny lookin' fer him. **

Evion's Bothan had reverted to the nearly incomprehensible dialect that he had used at first at the cantina, thicker, even. Moranda realized that it was for the benefit of anyone listening in on the conversation.

**They'd come ta me place ta see if'n he waz here, but he ain't no more. Stop in fer a drink wid some human-looking woman who was pesterin' him 'bout a job. He gived her a drink ta shut her up, then he left. Ain't seed him since. These big-furs thought mayhaps he waz out ta see ye. Ah told'm ye wasn't needin' no maids er nuttin', but ah thought ah'd call ta see. Any road, I waz gonna call ye an' see if that so-called brother of mine had called on his old mama lately.**

**T'aint seed hide ner hair of Master Borsk since last tax day, but yer brother was here fer supper ta other day, I 'spect he'll show up again when he's hungry. He paid fer his supper wid stories bout ta kits, chust like he allus does. Did he tell ye 'bout his youngest child and the no 'count fool she's a set on a marrying ...**

Mimaw launched into a long convoluted tale of love, lust and the price of weddings. Moranda turned her full attention to the printer. It had stopped the repeated warning just about the time Mimaw had launched into her long-winded report on Evion's brother's family stories. After a short pause the printer began again.

_**Your cover's blown, you'd better get ready to leave. **_

Borsk quickly typed a response, in his agitation not realizing that he was vocalizing the message to himself.

_**What happened and how much time do we have? **_

Moranda noticed that Mimaw, while continuing her family troubles monologue, had moved to where she too could read the printer's output. Borsk had set the printer to use different typefaces for incoming and outgoing messages, making it easy to follow. Borsk glanced at Moranda as he finished typing, waiting for the reply. "You do read Bothan, don't you? I could set this to auto-translate into Basic, but then Mimaw couldn't read it."

Moranda stole a look at Mimaw who gave her a small conspiratorial smile.

Borsk continued in Bothan **Mimaw will give the tappers something to listen to, while Evion sends his text-only report to my com. They shouldn't even be aware that there is a second communication here, and even if they DO stumble onto this signal, it's double encrypted**.

Almost at once, Evion's reply began to appear on the printer.

_**Not much time. Judge for yourself after I give you a rundown on what happened after you left. I set Beattia to follow you, that being the easier job, the younger ones have more natural talent than either she or Ptyr. Ptyr I sent out back to keep an eye on all there, he'd fit in better than the girls would. He said it was a good 15 minutes before Dan'lar and the Twi'lek figured out they'd been had. I had him head to the sweets shop after that. I set Seni and Amla to following Den and Kara. Amla stuck with Kara, and all but the Duros and the Sullustan followed her to the 'port'. Kara dumped the lot. Even Amla, but Am picked her up again, knowing where she would be going. Kara's at the summer place. Amla's watching but all seems straight. Seni tailed Den to your office and he got into see your secretary all right, but he picked up a tail on his way out. Seni caught up with Den and they dumped the tail. **_

_**After they were clear, Den tried to get Seni to leave, but she wouldn't, pointing out how quickly he'd been tailed after leaving the office. She says they went to the campus and when she saw who he was meeting, she knew he'd be OK. She left Den there. She says it is the safest place for him. After that she cut back to your office to see if she could pick up the tail. She says to tell your 'lady friend' that the package was delivered. I hope this makes more sense to you than it does to me.** _

Borsk looked at Moranda with a question in his fur, she nodded back at him and then saw the Bothan equivalent of a wink from Mimaw. Evion's text message continued spilling from the printer's flimsiplast strip.

_**Seni was heading back towards your office when she spotted the tail checking out side streets in the Blee'starn Gate district. She set to following him, and I'll be the Son of Palpatine if he didn't end up near the Temple. Seni slipped over to the sweets shop to keep an eye on him and found Beattia there with Ptyr. Bea started to fill her in on what went down earlier, but Seni was intent on watching her target. The guy was looking kind of lost, when a couple of toughs came out of the tavern and went up to him. Seni says she was sure they were going to roll him, but instead they just talked, one of the toughs kept pointing to the sweet shop, Beattia finally got a good look at him. She'd seen him earlier, when you and Moranda were there, she says he looked like he was going to follow you, she didn't know if it was just a common mugging or if he was after you because you are you. In any case she pushed a little kit into him and the kit's mother took care of the rest. She says she thinks he was after you specifically because he was madder than a wet cat when he saw you leave. By the way, Beattia says you owe her 20 credits for the damage done to her good cloak from the kit's blicci cone. Left a brilliant red stain all the way down the left side. **_

The text stopped, and Moranda figured that Evion was either resting his fingers for a moment or he was making a verbal response to Mimaw's covering chatter on the housecom. In the ensuing pause, Borsk keyed in a question:

_So Seni's target and Beattia's punk were talking by the temple?_

Presently Evion's text continued

_**Yes, and then an old beggar showed up. Ptyr wants to know if Dan'lar knows any other disguises. He wasn't sure at first that it was Dan'lar, it wasn't the SAME beggar as the one at the cantina, but both the girls say it IS Dan'lar and neither of them saw him in the first disguise. After a bit the beggar and the 2 punks went into the tavern, so Ptyr followed them. He hasn't checked back in, I'm not sure what that means. **_

_**Seni followed her target as he headed back toward the Breil building. He stopped in that little garden area near there and seemed to be waiting for someone. Seni was reporting all this to me from her vantage point across the street, when your secretary showed up. He talked to the guy for a bit, gave him something, Seni thinks it was a credit chip, and took something from him. The tail went to a small airspeeder parked nearby and left. So Seni followed your secretary. He went to a public call box and then went back to the park. A short while later, he was picked up by a fancy landspeeder Seni says when the door opened to let him in, she's pretty sure she saw Madam Grai'yka in the back. She wrote the tag code down. I'd call it in, but my com is tapped. You'll have to do that from your end if you have time. **_

_**The good news is that Seni got about half the code from the tail's vehicle too. I'll give those numbers verbally to Mimaw on the house com as soon as she gives me a good opening. This encrypt code doesn't do numbers well.**_

The printer stopped as Evion turned his attention to Mimaw again. Moranda turned to Borsk.

"Is your secretary in league with Grai'yka?"

"On the surface, it would seem that way. It's possible he has been duped into helping her and not actually one of her habitual agents. I'd take Evion's visit from 'some fancy comp'ny' as a sign that he's told her too much. Sith! I had him checked and rechecked. In any case, he knows too much. He knows about the summer place. If he sends Grai'yka's troops there, Amla's in danger. As are we here. If they asked my 'barkeep' if his 'mother' had seen me, you can bet he supplied that bit of information to them and the location of this house."

Mimaw handed Borsk one of the serviettes from the dinner table. On it she had written numbers, the tag codes for the landspeeders and a short note.

Moranda looked over Borsk's shoulder to read Mimaw's delicate Bothan script.

**Sign off with Ev. Call these into HQ. I'll keep talking.**

Borsk typed:

_Any more?_

The printer came to life again.

_No, just that Seni and Beattia are going to go back to the campus and pick up Den and — _

The printer abruptly stopped, and a look of concern flattened Mimaw's fur. Earlier, she had turned the speaker to its lowest volume setting, but now she turned it up so all could hear. The ambient noise of the cantina had suddenly ceased. It was so quiet that Moranda could hear the cantina's door swing shut and the sound of heavy boots entering. Boots that brought stormtroopers to mind. After a second's pause she knew that sound to be the Bothan Riot Troops, a newly created sub-department of Bothan internal security, developed after the Combined Clans Building Riot the previous year.

Suddenly, Borsk's beltcom let out an almost painful squeal, and the printer sent a short burst of seemingly random letters; just as suddenly the printer shut itself down and Fey'lya's beltcom went dead.

From the speaker Evion said **Mama? Ah hate to cut ye off, but it chust got over busy here. Ah'll be seein' ya at Cousin Bibbie's funeral rites later tonight, eh**?

**Oh fer sure, Evie, Ye takes care now, give me love to the kits an' all**.

**Bye now **

There was the sound of a com being clicked off, but the line remained open. Moranda guessed that Evion had the cantina's com rigged to transmit while seeming to be powered down.

Borsk spoke **He's set the self-destruct on the text sender. I hope he's not just panicking, those units are expensive**

Mimaw shot him a look that quelled any further comment, and then turned her attention to the speaker. Evion's voice, echoed and faint, came through. In heavily accented Common Bothan he said, **What'll be, gennelmen, 6 lums, or will ye's be sharing a bottle of sump'pin stronger. I's got a good brandy from** …

Evion's voice was cut off by the sound of breaking glass. A gruff voice said, **we ain't lookin' fer drinks, pridjpicker, just lookin' to send a message to yer boss ... and any fool pridjers who's stoopid enough to help him and that frigpridje human he's with. Show'm boys, what'll happen to 'em**.

The breaking glass, splintering wood and dying electronics lasted for an eternity, it seemed. Borsk and Moranda held their breath, fearing the worst. Mimaw left the room.

Over the noise, Moranda could here the voice of the Riot Trooper with the gutter vocabulary calling off his troops.

**Ok, boys, that'll do, save yer strength, we got a couple more places to go, one in Soj'ar and the other all the pridjerng way out by the Lake**.

As the troopers left the cantina, GutterMouth (at least, that was how Moranda thought of him) spoke again to Evion.

**My boss wants you to tell yer boss he'd better hand over the pridjing human, or it'll be more than just things smashed. You'll have to go see him in person tho, ya can't call him now**.

The com suddenly went dead. _The trooper probably smashed it as a parting shot,_ Moranda thought. Borsk looked shaken.

**Sith! Soj'ar is here, and my summer place is by the Lake. We have to warn Amla and Kara**

**Already done, Borsk** Mimaw had returned. She had a small handcom held to her ear and was listening intently. She spoke again to Borsk, **You two get the table cleared, put the plates down the composter. I used the disposables in case we had to make a quick getaway. Also put the food away — no, on second thought, send all the leftovers down the composter along with the plates. We don't want it to be obvious that more than one person ate here**.

Moranda started gathering up the dishes. As Borsk picked up the platters and serving dishes, Mimaw went to the housecom and downloaded the Drev'starn holo-news. She quickly printed several pages and handed them to Moranda as Borsk returned from the kitchen.

**Borsk, Kara needs your override codes to set the inner perimeter defenses for your summer place. They've already set the outer ones. She also wants to know if you need any self-destructs set in case the troopers get past the automatics. She was going to stay and fend them off herself, but I told her to scat along with Amla. They'll meet us at Evion's rendezvous; then we'll have to get Moranda to HER connection**.

Mimaw passed the handcom to Borsk with a warning.

**This is unsecured, so just give her the codes but state them backwards, then yes or no about the self destructs.** She turned to Moranda. **Do you know where your meeting place is?** Moranda nodded yes. **Good, now to figure out where Evion plans to meet us. Find the death notices in those holo-news pages, and look for anyone named Bibbie or something like that, or anyone from a clan with Bib in it. I'm going to lock down the com system and get the survival packs.**

* * *

As Wedge shut down the privacy shields and unlocked the doors to the meeting room, a look of foreboding crossed his face. Turning to Corran, he shook his head as if to say, "I don't know any more than you do." Corran shrugged his shoulders in response. It seemed to Wedge that he no sooner thought to himself _Well, whatever it is, we'll find out soon enough_ than Iella and Mirax burst through the door. Iella's anger and frustration evaporated almost instantly as she surveyed the occupants of the room. Skidding to a halt, Mirax literally ran up Iella's back as she, too, realized that this was no ordinary meeting.

Wedge realized that it would require some quick action to salvage the situation. Rising from his seat, he went to his wife and enfolded her in a hug. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Corran had pickled up the hint and had gone to Mirax. Before Iella could say anything, Wedge whispered in her ear "What's the emergency? Why the need to find us? Has something happened to Valin? Or Booster?"

Iella shook her head, and quietly replied "Nothing like that. This is serious. We need to talk."

Wedge gestured to the room's occupants. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly free at the moment to chat."

This is important, Wedge. We wouldn't have gone to all this trouble if it weren't."

"I'm sorry dear. Whatever it is will have to wait till we're done here. Unless …" Wedge turned to Leia.

"Leia, any chance we can call a 5 minute recess so that Corran and I can find out what was so important that Mirax and Iella had to find us?"

Leia saw the amused look on Karrde's face and realized what it must have taken for Booster Terrik's daughter to call upon her father's rival. Glancing at Luke and Bel Iblis, she caught their answering nods.

"No problem, Wedge. I think we all could use a few minutes to absorb the information we've had presented to us. Let's reconvene in 15 minutes."

* * *

As the meeting recessed, Wedge led Iella, Corran and Mirax back to his office. Closing the door, Wedge turned to his wife. "OK Iella, what in Hoth was so important that you and Mirax needed to find us?"

It was Mirax who responded. "Actually, Wedge, it was me who needed to find Corran. I have to make a run to Bothawui. So Corran will have to keep Valin a bit longer.

"This couldn't wait?" Corran said impatiently.

"No. I ... that is..."

In all the years he'd known Mirax, Wedge had rarely seen her at a loss for words. He looked to Iella for some explanation."

"It's about a mirfalcon, dear," Iella replied quietly.

"What?" Wedge said louder then he intended. His thoughts were in turmoil. _Mirfalcon?!? How does someone from CorSec know about that?_ Wedge tried to hide his bewilderment but some must have shown through; Iella tilted her head toward Mirax. She understood his puzzlement, but Corran misinterpreted it.

"It's an extinct Corellian seabird, Wedge," Corran said automatically. Shaking his head, he turned back to Mirax. "There are no mirfaclons on Bothawui, Mirax. What is going on?"

"I KNOW that Corran. It's a mirfalcon _figurine_, and I HAVE got to go get it."

An incredulous look passed over Corran's face. "THIS is the emergency? Someone wants you to come to Bothawui to pick up a … a _statue?_ For this you interrupted our meeting? Mirax, why would you do this? Surely this is something that you could attend to on your own."

"Aah, Corran, you may want to reconsider your comments. I suspect there's more than meets the eyes, isn't there Mirax?" Wedge said quietly.

"At least _someone_ knows enough to wait to pass judgment." Whirling on Corran, the fire in her eyes obvious, Mirax let him know how she felt.

"Corran Horn, how could you be so dense? Has being in Rogue Squadron dulled both your CorSec and Jedi instincts? Do you really believe that we would go to all this effort just to get an artifact? Especially if it meant I had to call upon Karrde to find you?"

Sheepishly, Corran accepted his reprimand. "No Mirax, you're right. I wasn't thinking. Obviously …" He looked at the others "… I'm the only one who doesn't know what's going on. Wedge?" He looked questioningly at his friend.

"I don't know much more than you do, Corran." _Although I sure know what a mirfalcon means, buddy, even if you don't._ "But I know Mirax and I trust her instincts." He turned to her, "How do you know there is a mirfalcon to pick up on Bothawui?"

"I received a message."

"Yes?" Wedge used the full force of his "General Antilles" voice. He WOULD get to the bottom of this.

"Mirax," Iella said thoughtfully. "I think you can show them the message on your com. Wedge isn't going to give up until he is satisfied that this is a true emergency."

Somewhat reluctantly, Wedge thought, Mirax handed him her hand com.

_I have a mirfalcon you might be interested in. You will want to take possession personally as your agent here is indisposed. Contact me about prices and delivery dates. A _

Corran held out his hand for the com, Wedge looked to Mirax for an OK before handing it over. This time, the reluctance was obvious. Corran scanned the message and his puzzlement was clear.

"Well," he began dubiously. "I still fail to see the importance of this, but if three of the Republic's leading Corellians say it's important … who am I to say it isn't." He finished with a shrug.

But Corran didn't give the com back to Mirax. A look came into his eye that Wedge had learned to recognize as "CorSec in Action."

Mirax evidently recognized the look too. She made a move to get the com back.

"Just one question, dear," Corran began, "Who is this 'A' person?"

Grinning impishly, Mirax answered. "Sorry dear, I can't tell you. After all, a wife has to have some secrets from her husband. Otherwise, there's no challenge, is there?" But just as quickly, the grin disappeared. "Corran, you're going to have to trust me on this. Just like you used to trust Iella when you were in CorSec. She was your partner then and you trusted each other implicitly — with your lives, even. You're going to have to do the same now for me."

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Without a word, Corran closed the distance between Mirax and himself and gave her a passionate kiss. _Ahh, that's the Corran Horn I married_ she softly murmured to herself.

"So _that's_ how Corsec handles Corellian smugglers," Wedge said giving his wife a look.

"Looks like a good way for a CorSec officer to handle ANY Corellian," she said as she gave him a hug.

Wedge whispered in her ear "As nice as this is, we'd better get back to business. If YOU were told about mirfalcons, Mirax must really be concerned." Iella murmured assent. "You're not going to tell me who has the mirfalcon, though, are you?" he asked. Iella just smiled at him, gave him a quick but thorough kiss, then reluctantly let go of her husband and turned to Mirax and Corran.

"I hate to break up this lovely reunion, now that you two have, ahh, kissed and made up, but there is the matter of the message, you know."

Wedge continued. "Corran, doesn't it strike you as odd that this message arrived at the same time that Bel Iblis got his? And both were from Bothawui. And I've been trying to get hold of Moranda for three days now without success. What do your Jedi instincts tell you about that coincidence?"

Corran's answer came without any hesitation. "The 'indisposed agent' is Moranda. It's not obvious to me, however, why Mirax was contacted, or who this 'A' is."

The others in the room exchanged glances. Mirax was the one who spoke first.

"I suspect that it's one of Father's contacts. After all, why else would the message come to me? They probably tried to get hold of Booster, but he's somewhere with Jysella."

"Makes sense. So how do we contact this "A" and how are we to retrieve the _mirfalcon?"_

"Before we make any plans, perhaps we should inform the others of this development."

* * *

As he and Corran entered the meeting room with their wives, Wedge saw that although the others had already returned, they were milling about, engaged in the polite chit-chat that takes place when official business was not being conducted. Catching Leia's eye, he motioned for here to come over. Slowly, she worked her way to where the four of them stood. Quickly he reported to Leia the reason Mirax and Iella had been trying to find Corran. Leia quietly responded, then moved to her place at the head of the table while Wedge went and reactivated the room's privacy shields.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if can reconvene, Mirax has some important information to share."

* * *

"Admiral, I don't suppose it would do us any good to try to talk you out of this, would it?"

"No, Captain, I must get this message to the New Republic hierarchy. But the only way that it will be seen as credible is to have it come from Karrde. I really see no alternative. Do you? What about you, Colonel?"

"Admiral, we have been friends for a long time, and you know I will follow your orders without question, But neither Ardiff nor I wish to do anything that will place the _Chimaera_ at risk. And reverting to realspace does just that, even if it is only a TIE Interceptor and not the _Chimaera_ herself."

"I understand, Colonel, but I am confident that the Corellian sensor net will not have time to locate you, and by extension, the _Chimaera._ It is a risk I am prepared to take."

"Very well, Admiral."

"Here's the message. With us this close to Corellia, you should be able to contact Karrde's people in real time. Once it is acknowledged, don't waste any time returning to hyperspace. We will meet you at the rendezvous point. Good luck, Colonel."

"Thank you Admiral."

* * *

"Let me get this straight, Horn. You want us to send Rogue Squadron to Bothawui to pick up a statue? A piece of … of … _pottery?_" Drayson's query was incredulous in tone, and his exasperation was evident.

As the Admiral continued his tirade, Wedge surveyed the room, noting each person's reaction to the mention of "mirfalcon" in the com message. Drayson, of course, had no idea of what a mirfalcon was. Leia was perplexed, but alert to the changes in the others at the bird's mention. Han was momentarily startled, but quickly covered his initial reaction. Bel Iblis was puzzled, then it was as if a glowtube went off in his mind. Karrde as usual, was nonplussed. If he knew what it meant, he gave no sign. If her didn't, he was equally impassive. Shada raised her eyebrows _Do all Mystral know such Corellian secrets? Or just Shada?_ he wondered. Luke and Mara seemed to withdraw into themselves, as if they were tapping the Force to discern the meaning hidden in the message.

And Corran … Wedge watched Corran take in the reactions around the table. _Won't take him long to figure this out. Fact is, it's a wonder some CorSec officer didn't figure it out long ago._ Turning his attention away from Corran, Wedge realized that Drayson had not yet finished his rant.

"Why not have Ackbar send the _Mon Mothma?_ If you want to start a diplomatic incident, at least do it in style. Antilles, can't you talk some sense into your colleague?"

"Actually, Admiral, I support him on this, although I don't think we need all of Rogue Squadron. Two or three X-Wings should be enough."

"Not you, too? Councilor, maybe you can put an end to this nonsense."

"I'm not sure I can, Admiral. I'm on leave, remember? And frankly, if Wedge says it needs to be done, I trust his judgment. I'm sure he wouldn't — "

Once again, a soft pinging filled the room. As he had done earlier, Karrde reached for his com unit.

"I give up," Wedge exclaimed. "Karrde, you're going to have to tell me more about this so-called 'commercial' com unit you have. Rogue HQ privacy shields are supposed to be the best there are. This is the second time you've pierced them like they weren't there."

"Agreed, Antilles, but first let me deal with my ship."

_ Chieften, I am sssory to dissturb you again, but thiss transssmission you musst hear immediately _

"H'sishi, this had better be good."

_ It iss Chieften, and we have confirmed that it is authentic. _

"Very well. Put it through." Karrde paused for a moment and then inquired of his communications officer. "H'sishi, is it something that the others here should hear?"

_ Yesss, chieften. _

Wedge rose and beckoned Karrde to the room's com centre. "Here, plug it in this slot."

Karrde complied with Wedge's instructions. Pressing a stud on the com unit, the message was broadcast for all to hear.

This is Admiral Gilad Pellaeon aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. I am presently in hyperspace just outside the Corellian sensor net. I am here because for the past three weeks I have been tracking down a sleeper cell of clones left from the days of Grand Admiral Thrawn. I can't explain how I came to find them here, but they are here. They believe the Empire is still flourishing. They further believe that they have been reactivated to participate in a scheme to retake Coruscant from Rebel forces. I have managed to convince the squad leader that they have been duped. I am not certain, but I believe Bothans are involved in this somehow. I am prepared to assist the New Republic in any way I can as a sign of the cooperation between the Imperial Remnant and the New Republic. I realize that without a hyperspace beacon, you cannot contact me. I further recognize that it will take time to apprise the leaders of the New Republic of my information and offer, and to convince them that the message and offer are both genuine. But I will not allow the _Chimaera_ or her crew to be placed at risk. However, I am prepared to have one of my officers revert to realspace at exactly 19:00 hours Galactic Mean Time for no more than 10 minutes. If I do not get a response, I will understand and return to Imperial territory. With the clones, of course. I know that I have no way to convince you that this message is genuine, or that the threat is real. But I assure you it is. Pellaeon out."


	26. When dreams become real

**Author's Note: **Because of the way the fanfiction board operates, angle brackets are a pain in the mikta (as Colonel O'Neill would say) … so I will use slashes — // — in their place.

* * *

It has been said that a journey of a thousand light years begins with a single parsec. And so it was with what later became known as the Corellian Crisis. And like all crises, its roots can be traced to a single event, or in this case, a single person — a bored technician an over-active imagination and too much time on his hands.

It began innocently enough. Tris Marnoch had long since given up cursing the names of those he held responsible for his exile to the "bowels of the Corellian sensor net monitoring facility." Of course, "bowels of the Corellian sensor net monitoring facility" was a figure of speech. The monitoring facility was really a series of independent stations with overlapping coverage of the sphere of space surrounding Corellia. Tris found himself, night after night, sharing the cramped confines of a facility so small that a Wookiee would not have been able to stand erect in the room. The only consolation was that his co-worker was just as bored as he was.

To pass the time, Marnoch fantasized of the days when the Empire and the Rebels were battling each other. Far too often, his "dreams" became real as the tedium of his job lulled him into a somnolent stage. And on this particular night, the blurring of fantasy and reality would have far-reaching consequences.

//Beep//Beep/Beep//

"Huh? What the? Hey Tris, you hear that?"

//Beep//Beep//Beep//

"Whaaa? Whaa? That can't be! That's the proximity alarm. There hasn't been a recorded incident of a ship coming out of hyperspace this close to Corellia since Sal-Solo's group was defeated."

//Beep//Beep//Beep//

"Well, unless I've somehow become part of your ahh, daily dreams, a ship _has_ just emerged from hyperspace. Let's see … hmm … it's a small one … probably a scout ship …"

//Beep//Beep// …

"Fizzbin. It's gone."

"Did we get enough data to track it?"

"The computer is analyzing the data. It should tell us where and what it found … OH HOTH. It's a TIE Interceptor!"

"A TIE Interceptor? That can't be. The Empire has no assets here. Besides, TIE Interceptors have limited range. It would have to have a mother ship to return to."

"Right. You know what else that means? It means that a Star Destroyer is hiding in hyperspace somewhere off Corellia."

"OH HOTH. What do we do know?"

"We alert Central about this, that's what."

"Where in the name of all the Hutts are they? This is bizarre. I can't seem to get a response from Central."

"I know why. We're being attacked! That TIE was just the start. I bet the reason it cut off was because the Star Destroyer took out the sensor net. What are we going to do now?"

"Do we still have contact with Coruscant?"

"Let me see … appears so. But that channel is only supposed to be used in the event of a planetary emergency."

"And this doesn't count as an emergency? Get a grip. Put me through."

"Attention Coruscant station. Please come in."

_Coruscant here. What's the emergency?_

"There's no time for explanation. Corellia is under attack. An Imperial TIE Interceptor was detected just inside the Corellian sensor net. The signal disappeared and now we cannot raise anyone on Corellia. We believe we are under attack by one or more Star Destroyers. You'd better advise the powers-that-be that they'd need to get off their duffs, or they're going to find that the Imperial Remnant won't be just a remnant any longer."

_Hold on now. You can't expect us to declare a state of emergency on the basis of just one signal._

"YOU try to raise Corellia. We'll wait."

_One moment … _

"Think they'll be able to get someone? Maybe it's just equipment failure on our part?"

"Sure, you keep believing that if it makes you feel better. **I** know that it's not —"

_Corellian monitoring post, this is Coruscant Central. We have not been able to contact Corellia. Please maintain contact as we attempt to resolve this incident._

* * *

Borsk lead the way to the ramshackle outbuilding, the 'outpost' he had called it when he sent the message to Bel Iblis. He quickly cleared the debris from the trapdoor and, without waiting for her to ask for help, picked up Mimaw and carried her down the ladder.

"Can we rig the crates to cover the door behind us?" Moranda asked. Then she remembered Mimaw's apparent lack of Basic, and repeated herself in Bothan.

/The deadfall logs should be rigged. Borsk, be a dear and check./

Mimaw turned back to Moranda. /That pile of firewood against the wall will roll down over the trapdoor when we pull the release. It will slow them down long enough for us to be out of the tunnel before they breach the outpost door. /

As Borsk hurried back up the ladder, Mimaw opened the door to the outpost. Moranda's trained eye took it all in. It looked like an ordinary farm storeroom, grain bins along one wall, built-in cabinets and a few wood and metal working tools on the opposite wall, a large workbench, and a walk-in freezer at the far end of the room.

Mimaw opened one of the grain bins to reveal a state-of-the-art comcenter. She was flipping switches and turning dials when Moranda's scanner began to beep.

/I'm picking up a transmission on Bothan internal security channels. Let me see if I can descramble it. /

Mimaw looked up from the comboard, and appraised Moranda's scanner.

/That's one nice piece of equipment you have, dear. Azur-Jamin/I'att?/

/Um … yes./

Borsk entered the room and Mimaw hastily turned her attention to the comboard. Moranda ran the scanner through standard encrypt breaking programs. She was about to give up and try some of the custom programs that Ghent had installed when the random noise from the scanner resolved itself into speech.

/ … got him, he didn't want to come, says it's all your show here, that he's got things to do./

/Tremik Dan'lar/ Borsk identified the speaker.

The reply to Dan'lar was faint and static filled, a female voice, in Bothan. Moranda thought she caught the words 'watch' and 'soon'

/Must be farther away, what's the range on that scanner, dear?/ asked Mimaw, still working on the comboard.

Before Moranda could answer, the scanner began transmitting again.

/Not soon enough, boss. You should get there first. I don't want … Hey! Get yer mitts off my com!/

A new voice said in Basic …

"Grai'yka? Ya ain't got no business pulling me into this side of your scheme. I should be heading out to Corellia to run things there. Ya don't need me to ID the old lady, it's her I tell ya."

"Navett!" breathed Moranda

Borsk started to translate into basic, but Mimaw held up a hand to stop him.

/Thank you Borsk, but I got the gist of it, I understand that much Basic. Corellia, eh? Moranda, who is Navett?/

/The Imp saboteur that almost brought down Drev'starn's shields/

/Ah, that one/ said Mimaw rather cryptically.

The static filled reply was a bit clearer now, an indication that the other vehicle … at least Moranda assumed her scanner was picking up a comlink call between two parties heading toward Mimaw's farm … was closer now.

/No, I need you here. I want to be sure that she's the one, the New Republic agent. If she is then we'll … /

The message abruptly cut out, replaced by a rather odd background static.

/They've gone into the Vri'sykn'aug Tunnel, that would put them right here./ Mimaw pointed to a map on the wall.

/If Dan'lar is on the Drev-Blee road,/ she continued/ it will be just a matter of minutes before he gets here, Grai'yka will be right behind him. That earlier static was more likely from the hills than any great distance. I need to finish setting the pickups on the telltales in the house, then we should head out. Borsk, set some diversions in here./

Mimaw went back to the comboard as Borsk puttered around in the room, artfully upsetting storage boxes and opening cabinets, making it look as though someone was searching for something and left quickly. He opened a large cabinet and dropped its contents on the floor, then he opened a semi-hidden door in the back. Moranda could see a crude tunnel dug into the dirt. He closed the door, but not quite tightly, and then left the cabinet's door ajar.

/Shut it completely, Borsk./ Mimaw instructed/We don't want to make it so easy for them that they'll get suspicious. The pile of Lightbringer Festival decorations on the floor should lead them there./

Mimaw saw the somewhat confused look on Moranda's face and explained to her that Grai'yka or Dan'lar, or both, would know that most Bothan farms still had 'bolt-holes' left over from the 'Times of Troubles' when roving bandit bands made life in rural area dangerous. That was generations ago, but Bothan memories ran long. Mimaw figured that it was only a matter of time before Dan'lar checked the outbuilding and found the store room. She and Borsk would leave enough 'evidence' to show that they had come this way and fled. The doorway from the cabinet lead to a swampy area several kilometers from the farm. As soon as Mimaw finished her work at the comboard, she would remove the newer electronics and leave just the shell, a standard off the shelf comcenter like every working farm had for inventory control and short-range communications.

/Now the question is, do we what them to know that there are three of us, two, or just me?/ she asked.


	27. At Rogue HQ

Admiral Pellaeon's words left a stunned silence in the small meeting room at Rouge HQ. The thought of the _Chimaera_ in hyperspace near Corella had left everyone speechless.

"Well!" Mirax was the first to recover. "That sure throws a hydrospanner into my plans for leaving all the kids with you and Wedge while Iella and I head off to Bothawui. I suppose you'll both be running off to the big game at Corellia. Wedge, will you be able to spare any of the squad?"

Bel Ibis hardly waited for Mirax to finish before he spoke. "Is this all linked together? My cryptic message from Karrde's agent on Bothawui. Mirax's ..." he chose his words carefully, "... pick-up mission, again on Bothawui, and now Admiral Pelleaon's warning ... about a threat from Bothans."

Even though Bel Iblis's comments were directed to no one in particular, everyone looked to Luke.

But it was Shada who spoke.

"For what it's worth, all my instincts say yes." Instantly she wondered if she should have spoken. Like her boss, she was a little in awe of the assembled company. Luke's smile and Mara's almost invisible nod told her she was right.

For a moment, there was no response. Leia glanced at Luke and he nodded his head in agreement.

"OK," Leia said. "Admiral, you go through regular channels and request a formal Alpha Blue presence on Corellia but Rogue Squad will leave as soon as they can be scrambled." Leia noticed the reaction of Vorran Horn. "That's on my authority — I still have some when I choose to use it. Wedge what level security alert are you on?"

"I sort of anticipated some trouble when Corran came here from the concert, so I had a message sent to the techs to be ready … just in case. Rogue Squad will be space-ready in one hour, but what about Mirax and Iella?"

Leia gave him the smile she usually reserved for impatient politicians before she turned to Karrde. A raised eyebrow was all she needed.

"The _Wild Karrde_ is at your disposal Councilor, … or will be, as soon as Aves completes his system maintenance."

"Thank you. Karrde. Garm, do you still have some assets in the Corellian System?"

"Yes, some. I can contact my people and apprise them of the threat. And I'll give General Antilles a contact code."

"Good. Luke," she turned to her brother, "I'll need to go to Corellia. I'll hitch a ride with you and Mara."

Wedge was somewhat taken aback at Leia's casual assumption that Luke and Mara would be going to Corellia; it took him only a few moments to recognize that the Jedi twins were communicating at some subconscious level.

Han started to speak, but Leia set her hand on his shoulder. "Han, you and the Falcon need to be here."

"Jedi hunch?" Han asked

"Something like that," was her reply. Wedge knew it was easier than explaining to Han that Corellia with Bothans and Imperials and who knew what else was the last place she wanted him and his undiplomatic way of dealing with threats.

"You were right the first time, little sister, Jedi hunch." Luke's whispered response was just audible to Wedge and Han.

"Oh!" was Leia's soft but startled response to Luke's assertion.

Luke continued in an even softer voice. "Yes, little sister. It was a Jedi hunch. You are getting more adept with the Force. I had the same feeling as you spoke."

Wedge wondered if he should be privy to this conversation but a subtle wink from Luke told him that his inclusion was intentional. A quick glance at Han showed Wedge that the last part of the Jedi sibling's exchange was just between them … and Wedge.

Wedge was still pondering the implications as Leia quickly recovered from Luke's revelation.

"Mirax, can you reach Booster? I think a bit of backup in the form of a Star Destroyer might not be a bad addition to the _Pulsar Skate,_ especially if the _Wild Karrde_ will be several hours behind you."

"He's at a Holotoon with Jysella. We won't need to take them away from that, the _Venture_ makes good enough time that he can leave half a day after us and still get there before us."

"Oh Sith," Mirax added with sudden chagrin. "I know this may seem like a minor concern in the face of a threat to Coruscant, but I was hoping that Booster could watch all the kids, mine and Iella's, since Corran and Wedge are not going to be available."

"Believe me, Mirax I do not view the welfare of children as a minor concern." Leia turned to Corran. "Where's Valin now?"

"In the rec room with Gavin and Hobbie."

"Hmmmm, can't leave him there."

Drayson, in that bored know-it-all tone that Wedge found so irritating spoke up. "Don't you have some sort of daycare arrangement?"

Corran supplied the answer. "Not on such short notice, especially in the afternoon."

"Isn't there some 'agency' you could leave them with?" Drayson queried, almost plaintively.

"Hiram," Leia began, "I don't think we want to have any outsiders knowing that General Wedge Antilles and his wife and their close friends, the Horns, are looking for childcare. Folks would wonder where all their trusted friends were. It would be all too easy for someone to put these facts together and figure something's afoot. Whoever takes the kids needs to be a trusted ally of this group. If Jania and Jacen were a little older, I'd have them watch them, but I barely trust them alone with just C3P0. If Anakin were here and not still visiting Kyshkk, I'd be scrambling for childcare myself."

After a short silence, Han spoke in that light bantering tone that Wedge was never sure was really joking.

"So, Karrde, got any babysitters in that crew of yours? One of those brave smugglers ought to be able to handle four little Corellians."

That got a laugh and lessened the tension n the room, but solved nothing.

"What if," Shada began slowly, "what if ... Mirax, do you need Iella specifically as your co-pilot, or just a trusted colleague who's good with a turret gun and a vibro blade?"

Mirax frowned slightly. "Nooo … just a trusted," and she emphasized the word, "associate who's good backup in a pinch. Why? You volunteering?"

"Yes. I don't know which Bothans we're dealing with, both on Bothawui and in the Corellian system, but if Pelleaon's concerned, you can bet they're dangerous. And it's almost certain that they would have agents here on Coruscant. I noticed that no one suggested having Chewbacca watch the kids or putting them on the Falcon with Han and the Wookiee. I think this is your collective subconscious warning you that the Falcon needs to be battle ready. I have the feeling that ALL the children need to be _protected_, not just watched. I haven't survived as long as I have in my business by ignoring 'feelings'."

"So what I'm suggesting is that Iella take Valin, Jysella, Syal and Myri, Jacen, Jania, their Noghri and the droid to the Solo's Manarai Mountain apartment. I trust the security holes have been plugged?" She looked at Leia's Noghri bodyguard.

Barkhimkh bared his teeth at Shada but hissed a laughing response. "Within an hour of your breach, Shadow Woman"

'Good. Then it's probably safest place on Courscant. I'll go with Mirax. As Karrde's second, I've been privy to all the intel he has on Bothawui."

A thoughtful silence filled the room.

Wedge immediately saw the merits of Shada's plan and scanned to room to see if the others had picked up all the nuances of her pronouncements.

Karrde's brief flicker of distress caught Wedge's attention first. It was such a fleeting expression that Wedge wasn't sure he had seen it. It was quickly replaced by a look of agreement and confidence. Wedge made a mental note to ask Karrde later what private doubt had crossed his mind.

Again it was Drayson who spoke. "Alright. Now that that's taken care of, what's the next order of business?" The Admiral paused and turned to Leia. "Princess, an opinion please. Who in the Senate is in the 'need-to-know' loop in this crisis? Just Gavrisom, the Select Intelligence Committee, the Security Caucus, or, Force forbid, the entire Senate?"

"Hiram, at this point, I really don't want to have to tell even Gavrisom unless I have to … but Alpha Blue needs authorization."

"Actually, Leia," Bel Iblis said quietly, "We have the authorization in this room. With you as the Senator from the Alderaanian Remnant and your separate vote as a member of the Privy Council, me representing the Corellian expatriates, General Antilles as the military representative and Barkhimkh, you are the Maitrakh's voice, yes?" Bel Iblis got an affirmative nod, "Along with Luke representing the Jedi, we have enough votes to request a 'private' investigation under section 43.68 of the Provisional Code."

Drayson frowned. Karrde smiled as he spoke, "I'll bet most of the Senators have no idea that those old 'Rebel Alliance' accords are still on the books. You were wise, Councilor, to leave them there."

"Wasn't me, Karrde. It was Mon Mothma. She said sometimes the few needed to make decisions for the many. Are you sure, Garm, that just six of us can call for an investigation?"

Bel Iblis looked momentarily discomforted at the thought of his old nemesis, Mon Mothma, providing the means of furthering one of his own plans.

"That's enough to start an investigation. To continue it past three standard Coruscant days, you'll need a majority vote from some caucus or committee."

Luke looked up with a faraway expression.

"Three days? It will be all over by then."


	28. I think we have a problem

Nightime.

At least, what passed for nighttime on the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_.

Admiral Gilad Pelleaon, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet wondered what it was about nighttime that he found so appealing. It certainly wasn't the fact that it was "night." On a capital ship, the notion of day and night had no reference point. Local customs, not to mention local time systems, often meant that shipboard time bore no relation to the time on in-system planets. Early voyagers often adjusted their ship chronometers to match local time, but as hyperspace travel expanded the extent of known space, that approach simply became unworkable. It was also a matter of biology. Despite thousands of years of space travel, the circadian rhythm of sentient species still demanded some distinction between "day" and "night". So, Galactic Mean Time was adopted for all space-faring travel. No matter where you were in the Galaxy, GMT was the basis for telling time.

Even though the logic made sense, Pellaeon knew there was more to it that that. Night was a time for contemplation, a time for reflection. He recalled something his mentor, Grand Admiral Thrawn had said. _Night is the best time,_ he had advised the then-captain of the _Chimaera_. Pellaeon smiled inwardly as he recalled that lesson. _Why, you wonder? _Thrawn continued:_ It is because there are no distractions. It is the time that the mind works best … when intuition becomes action._ And intuition certainly had become action. Why else would the flagship of the Imperial Remnant be in hyperspace deep within New Republic Territory?

Pellaeon slowly surveyed the night crew on the bridge. Hard at work, they barely noticed the Admiral as he stared out the view screen at the panorama of space. The deep _thrumm_ of the hyperdrive had been replaced by a soft _purrr_. The throbbing of the on-board equipment seemed muted. The crew, too, seemed sensitive to the night. The buzz of conversation was barely a whisper. _Even the Chimaera is sleeping,_ Pellaeon concluded.

And yet … the ship never really slept. Dozed perhaps. But like a feral beast, it was ready to wake at the slightest hint of trouble. Pellaeon sighed to himself. _Face it Gilad, you're getting old. You just like the night because it is a time of peace._ The Admiral wondered what his mentor, Grand Admiral Thrawn would think of his contemplative mood. _I bet you'd smile and ask me about the artwork of the Corellians and how it showed that they would never really ally themselves with the Empire._ But Thrawn was a pragmatist at heart, and all his actions were calculated to the last decimal place.

Pellaeon shook his head. _Chasing ghosts,_ the mumbled to himself. Yet a ghost slept in his crew quarters. A clone, and not just any clone. Hivinsvok was a clone of Baron Soontir Fel, the greatest pilot ever to fly for the Empire. _And the New Republic,_ Pellaeon added.

The rumor had been that Director Isard had captured Fel and had him executed as a traitor. But Pellaeon had always felt that something didn't ring true. He recalled a time when Thrawn had been discussing some point of strategy — _more like Thrawn talking and me listening_ — and the Grand Admiral was arguing that threats to the Empire came from both inside and outside the Galaxy. Thrawn had smiled in his enigmatic way and softly allowed that the best the Empire ever had would certainly meet the challenge. And then Luke Skywalker, as a demonstration of the good faith necessary to make the peace treaty work, had revealed one of the secrets of the Unknown Regions. _I wonder what Fel's up to now?_ Pellaeon mused. _To know that both he and Admiral Vos Parck were still alive. And in the service of, what did Skywalker call them? Ah yes, the Chiss._

Suddenly, Pellaeon paused in his musings. After more than twenty years aboard the _Chimaera_, he was acutely tuned to her every sound. Hiding in hyperspace, waiting for the new Republic to respond to the offer of help, the Imperial Remnant's flagship was effectively at rest, anchored to an imaginary dock. Ardiff had explained it to him, but Pellaeon still found it hard to grasp. According to her captain, the _Chimaera_ was essentially stationary while the galaxy revolved around her.

Pellaeon studied the forward viewer. The panorama appeared unchanging. Yet … something seemed different. It was as if the _Chimaera_ had cast off her moorings and was slowly drifting away from the dock.

Moving to the command deck, the Admiral approached the navigator.

"Ensign, have we changed course?"

The response was a choked "no sir" as the officer struggled to attention while examining the data from the console.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes sir. We are still at rest relative to the Corellian hyperspace route and … Sir. I don't understand this. Our sensors show us at rest … yet the compass says that we're no longer locked on the same coordinates. I can't explain this, sir. It's almost as if the galaxy moved around us while we stayed in the same place. Sir."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Pellaeon found himself smiling at the earnestness of his officer. The absurdity of the situation seemed obvious. And yet, Pellaeon had learned long ago not to dismiss explanations, no matter how unlikely.

"How far have we moved, Ensign?"

"One moment, sir. About three parsecs, sir."

Pellaeon acknowledged the answer with a nod. Moving to the comm unit, he punched in a well-known code.

"Captain Ardiff to the bridge."

"Well, Ardiff, this is a rather interesting development. Have you been able to sort out what happened yet?"

"Admiral, it's hard to explain hyperspace movements in words, but if you think of hyperspace as a cone, with the _Chimaera_ occupying a position in the cone that can be referenced by a three-dimensional coordinate system, we've been moved three parsecs along the diagonal between two of the dimensions. However, we are still at rest relative to hyperspace motion. Obviously the sensor logs have been damaged since they show us at our old position for an extended period of time and then instantaneously, they record us as being at our present coordinates."

"Why would that mean the logs have been damaged?" the Admiral asked.

"It's like this, sir. Although hyperspace travel cuts the time to move from place to place in the galaxy, it still requires at least _some_ time to move from point to point. In our case, the sensors show us moving in non-time."

"Non time?"

"Yes Admiral. We were at our old coordinates and then we weren't. We weren't at the present coordinates and then we were. Between one heartbeat and the next. It just isn't possible, Admiral. At least, we don't have the technology."

"Hmm … perhaps the question then should be not how, but why?" 

"Sir?"

"If you are correct and this displacement is beyond our technology, we have two options. We can invest time and effort to determine how, or we can direct our attention to the "why" of the incident. It seems to me that _someone_ has gone to a lot of trouble to move us. Why?"

* * *

As Mimaw explained things and Borsk rearranged things, Moranda attended to the scanner, hoping the strange static would resolve itself into speech again. Several times she heard a com click and figured that Dan'lar was trying to send a message, but couldn't go through. It would be just like Madam Grai'yka to have her com set to 'send-only' so her underlings couldn't interrupt her while she was speaking. Presently the static ceased and Dan'lar was able to send.

/ Say again, the tunnel static disrupted your transmissions./

_/I said if the 'maid' is the New Republic agent, we'll eliminate her./_

/And if the maid is not the New Republic agent?/

/_We still eliminate her, but we'll have to make it look like an accident, not a security breach. If she's not at the farm house or if the maid is here but she's not the agent we're looking for, you'll have to go back into Drev'starn and find her. Shake down that bartender, find that youngling you said was at the cantina and the Temple and see what he knows, find that other one that visited Fey'lya's office. The fool that Fen'yda hired lost him. /_

/Are you sure Fen'yda's genuinely working for you and not Borsk? He has, after all been Borsk's secretary for quite sometime./

/_I certainly paid him enough over the years, in more than just credits. Oh, he's loyal, just not very bright./_

"Hey, Grai'kya, ya shoudda let me handle the biddy when I had the chance. Now we gotta traipse all over the countryside looking for her."

/_Captain Dan'lar, since you can't keep that … that … human quiet, I shall not communicate with you until we met in person./_

/Borsk, dear,/ said Mimaw/you'd better run a tight check on your security screening./ Mimaw paused, then looked directly at Moranda before she continued.

/I think we'd better make sure they know Moranda was here, that will take the pressure off Evion and the kits in town. Moranda, do you have something you could 'drop' that would let this Navett know that he's on the trail of his old nemesis? If I know the type, he's so sure he's right that he would tear Bothawui apart looking for you, so we'll just keep him looking where we want him. I think, Borsk, that it will be best if there is no sign of you. In fact, I think you should be at your summer place as soon as you can. Have a trusted contingent of Bothan regulars there with you when Grai'yka shows up. We'll try to keep her tied up around here as long as possible, but she'll end up there eventually. I'll work on a good background story for why you felt the need to call on the regulars for security./

Moranda dug in her carryall and found a small cheap hand com.

/He ought to recognize this. Will it do?/

/Are you sure he'll know it's yours? It's just an off the shelf unit, not Bothan, but there must be hundreds of coms like this around Drev'starn/ Borsk asked.

/He'll remember this brand/ Moranda assured him as she handed the com to Mimaw.

Mimaw took the com and turned it over several times looking at it closely.

/He'll know that you left this behind?/

Moranda nodded.

/Interesting,/ Mimaw muttered under her breath/most interesting./

/Yes, dear, it will do/ Mimaw continued in a normal voice.

Borsk was adding the finishing touches to the 'rapid departure' look of the storeroom.

/Are we ready then?/ he asked.

/Almost. One last thing. We have time for a quick trip to the 'fresher, Moranda. Come. Oh Borsk don't give me that sort of look. It's a gender thing, not species. Woman of all races, even humans, are social in situations where males need privacy./

Before Fey'lya could come up with a suitable retort, Mimaw led Moranda out of the storeroom and down the hall.

/Actually,/ she began/I used the 'fresher in the house before we left, but I need to talk to you alone, Moranda, and this is one place Borsk won't be./

Mimaw close the door and switched back to basic.

"So, tell me about your involvement in the sabotage of the shields ... or rather your involvement in the attempt to thwart the saboteurs. We know about the New Republic agents Bel Iblis sent, and we know they were called away before they could stop the miscreants. We weren't able to find out who it was that did stop them. We found the remains of your com at the site. Despite what Borsk thinks, it's very distinctive ... at least to the trained eye. Were you working alone after Bel Iblis's boys left?" She took Moranda's wry smile as a yes and continued. "A bit foolhardy, but I don't suppose you had any choice. We didn't tumble onto the 'vandalism' until it was too late. We did a good cover up after though. 'Equipment failure.' Really, the public can be so gullible, so ready to believe what they want to believe. Imperials you say?"

Moranda nodded.

"I thought they might be. Earrsk wasn't convinced, but nothing else made sense. So debrief me quickly, Borsk may be a male, but even he will wonder what's taking us so long in the 'fresher. I'd hate to have to use that 'frail old lady' bit on him. I don't know which is worse, the idea that I'm tricking one so dear to me, or the way he gets so overprotective."

* * *

If the two Corellian techs were concerned, their equivalents on Coruscant we no less affected. But unlike their Corellian counterparts, these were no sleepy-headed bored drones. The emergency signal was routed to a priority section of New Republic Intelligence. The Corellian sensor net logs had been transmitted to Coruscant, and it did not take long to confirm that indeed, a TIE Interceptor had emerged from hyperspace, transmitted a short message, and then re-entered hyperspace. What the Corellian techs had not noticed, or been able to recognize, was that the message was directed to Coruscant, not Corellia.

Immediately, the signal was given to heighten the sweeps around the New Republic's capitol. At the same time, coded messages were sent to a select group of the New Republic's hierarchy. Almost immediately, half of those messages bounced back as "undeliverable" — and that set the rancor in among the nerf herd.

"This is very strange. Where can they be?"

"Where can who be?"

"I can't seem to locate General Antilles and Admiral Drayson. The signal to Senator bel Iblis and Councilor Organa-Solo also bounced back. And all I get from Luke Skywalker's com is a recorded message. I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this."

"What do the regs say about a situation like this?"

"Let me see … here it is … 'Regulation XI.6: In the event that a military strike against Coruscant is detected or anticipated, the planetary shield is to be raised at level 3. All traffic to and from Coruscant is to be suspended. Notice is to be given to the New Republic military command and the Governing Council. However, until such attack is confirmed or repudiated, the general populace is to be advised that the change in shield level and the cessation of traffic is part of on-going exercises to test the readiness of the planet's defense system. See regulation XI.6(a)(ii).' That's all I can find —"

"That's enough for me. Notify the authorities that as of 15:22 Galactic Mean Time, we are invoking regulation XI.6. Have the planetary shields raised to level 3. I'll advise planetary space control that all traffic to and from Corus

* * *

cant is hereby suspended until further notice. C'mon, what are you waiting for? I'll not have it said that Prentiss Klarcsin-Grov sat on his hands while the Empire attacked his home."

As they left the Outpost's 'fresher, Moranda quickly told Mimaw of her role in the shield generator escapade, carefully keeping Karrde's name out of the account.

"Some cleaver maneuvering," Mimaw said, "Considering your lack of resources. I take it your boss hadn't expected a full-blown Imp involvement."

"Surprisingly, no."

"Moranda dear, who does Borsk think you work for?"

"Senator Bel Iblis, or Leia Organa Solo with Bel Iblis as her contact."

"Good. That will do. It's a reasonable assumption and will fit in if he starts snooping and finds out about your 'helpers.' Were they the best the New Republic could send? None of the NRI agents in place here could have been put on the case?"

"I don't think the government recognized the possibility of Imp involvement. We didn't know it was Imperials at first, and Bel Iblis' boys genuinely thought they were investigating a authentic fringe group upset over the Camaas affair."

"I'd love to met your boss sometime, and no, dear, I don't know who it is, I have some guesses, but I'll let you keep his anonymity." Then she added, almost as an afterthought, "As long as it is of no importance to Bothawui."

_I'd love to have Karrde meet YOU,_ Moranda thought. _I wonder if he _has_ met her. Somehow I wouldn't be surprised to find out they've been allies and adversaries for years._

Halfway back to the main storeroom, Moranda realized she still had the Drev'starn holo-news flimsies tucked into the top of her carryall. She switched back to Bothan.

/I haven't had a chance to look at those death notices yet./

/That's alright, dear. You'll have plenty of time when we are in the chute./

_Chute? Sith, I hope that's Bothan slang for the tube, and not an open elevator shaft._


End file.
